


The Duke & The King (of NYC) || Birthday Angst || Complete

by iamnotanegg



Series: The Duke [5]
Category: David Bowie (Musician), Lou Reed (Musician), Tumblr Roleplay - Fandom, tumblr rp - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-06-06 04:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6738880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotanegg/pseuds/iamnotanegg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Submission sent on Lou's birthday.<br/>Drugged.<br/>Smutty.<br/>Angsty.<br/>Tragic.</p><p>Absolutely delicious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David hated himself for preparing on such short notice. Then again, it was hard to get someone you love something if that something is pretty much everything. If he could put the world and the universe in a small box, wrap it in foil and add a card that has his name on it, he would. After all, sex isn’t everything; not a good second choice, though.  
A t the strike of twelve midnight, not a minute late, David lit a yellow candle buried onto a thick, chocolate bar that nearly broke in half, atop the banana cake he had ordered earlier today. Waiting for the very second the door would burst open with a leather – clad man and his lifeless stare that brought him life and love altogether.

whiitelight:  
Lou returned early from whatever dark alley way activities Lou does (somethings are better left to the imagination) hair only slightly tousled, shirt disheveled of his shoulder, notably not his, wearing his omnipresent leather coat and sunglasses. Peering over them when he stepped through the door and smiling the curved and pleasant grin, a private affair, as always. “Oh my god,” Lou murmured, half in disbelief, walking swiftly over to David, “no one’s done this for me in ages.” Lou mumbled, kissing David on the cheek and extending a finger for saccharine icing.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David would have been grateful for the remark, topped with the rare display of Lou being surprised; he always seem so aloof over things that were commonly new to David, then again he did reside all the way in England. The little things amused him, but born and raised in the states, Lou had the better knowledge on things. “Really?” David did his best to not mimic a disgruntled mother that had waited hours for her cheap – ass husband who, no doubt, had more fun than a married man was allowed to.  
David was not one to talk as he himself had his share of nightly escapades with anyone that tickled his fancy. Heck, he even dressed the part. But today was Lou’s birthday and he had at least expected him to be home early. Him coming home late (at least for him), isn’t a new thing, but not today, he had hoped. Not in some stranger’s shirt looking like he had the greatest fuck of the century. Arms folded over his chest as the eager smile turned into a slight frown. “Happy birthday you twat.”

whiitelight:  
Well, was David full of surprises. And boy did he look moody. Of course it was true, Lou had a fuck, certainly not the best of his life (it was not flattery to admit that David, stud, androgen God was the best fuck, but that was besides the point,) but Lou never meant to come home late. Of course, this wasn’t late to him at all, and they had enough time it seemed it hardly mattered. Especially since Lou hadn’t been alerted to the fact they would be celebrating, but of course these are all meager excuses for bad behavior.  
“What?” Lou asked, taking a step back, dead pan again, head raised in a defensive posture.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Oh, nothing.” David’s tone pitched green with envy, eyes rolling in sheer agitation. How dare he? “I mean I just waited the whole day with this bloody, fucking, shit cake because – oh, I don’t know, darling. It’s your goddamn birthday?” He spoke in a speedy, tacky fashion, stomping his feet and waving his arms like a deranged psycho with lustful eyes of murder. Oh god, would he have done so; clock him right in the dick as if he hadn’t been fucked enough already. “Heh. Fucking whore.” David spat, shaking his head as he began pacing with palms nested on his hips.

whiitelight:  
“Yeah,” Lou shrugged, complacently, figuring the most irritating thing to David in this state would just be disinterest. He wasn’t wrong, Lou was a whore, something he had just been alerted to several times while he nestled his tongue in the leather cocoon of somebody’s business loafers. “I didn’t know you were going to do anything.” Lou murmured, throwing the keys on the nightstand and walking absentmindedly to the kitchen, a small swagger in his step that he was trying to conceal, “and, frankly, I don’t know why you’ve got yourself all bent out of shape.” Lou half spat, retrieving a glass, slowly, from the cupboard, running the water so it would be cold.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Tongue firmly cupped a stressed molar as David continued his mindless dance. “I can’t even look at you right now.” Which he wasn’t, as a matter of fact, he eyed him in silence, a fit of rage and jealousy consuming the Duke as he followed Lou’s movements through the mirror before him. Cake idle; a small puddle of wax coating the bar and a good portion of the bread’s crust. Brows kissed in disgust, “Just look at you.” Turning to face Lou by the sink, stomping his leather heeled shoes on the ground as he approached him. “I went through, I went through all the fucking trouble to get this stupid cake, for your stupid birthday, while you get fucked by some stupid guy, because you’re a stupid fucking asshole, Lou. A fucking asshole you are, love.” Angry, David shoved Lou by the shoulder, glaring.

whiitelight:  
Lou felt David’s weak push and snickered, turning around to give him a reprimanding look. “I get that a lot,” Lou muttered, incredulously, walking away idly from David’s assault and sitting on the couch like the absent husband he was starting to become. It wasn’t his fault, right? David wasn’t home half the time, anyway, he didn’t tell him to be home. Lou shifted uncomfortably, still a bit worn out, glaring up at David.  
“Get over yourself,” Lou snaps with sudden irritation.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Normally, David would have strode off in an angry fit, dragged the next human being with enough orifice he could shove himself into, get drunk, get high, and pass out on an alleyway, waiting for Coco to pick his sorry ass up home. But this would not be the case; Lou is not just another man in his life. He’s no on – the call fuck boy that he could sink his teeth into when he’s in heat, no; Lou was different. Lou was his Lou; shared, but his. Lou is his mess, his whore, his baby.  
“Get off it?” David screamed, “Get off it? What the fuck, Lou?” Angrily, David scooped the plate of DIY cake on the desk and threw it at Lou. The bread crumbled, of course. Bar broke and scattered debris of sweet, brown goods on the floor and the candle broke right after the flame grazed Lou by the shoulder.

whiitelight:  
Lou flashes with anger: he was still wearing his coat. There was two things he cared about, firstly, and most importantly, David, and secondly, leather. Especially his heavy, old, leather jacket, worn to his body, completely part of him and still pristine. Lou desperately brushed off his coat, taking it off quickly and throwing it on the table, “don’t do that,” Lou mumbled, rolling his eyes and taking another glass of water.  
“Why are you so upset? I don’t know what I did so wrong. I’m home now.” Lou continues, griping, opposite David, “does the other man bother you?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Lou’s indifference and his ability to remain calm even in agitation made David felt even more infuriated. How he could remain so calm and nonchalant at the ordeal made him really upset. The mess he had created made his stomach churn; the time and imagination he exerted to make this patch of randomities into something special has now come to rest in the dirty, dirty ground.  
He glared at Lou, tears almost a faint puddle. “Why the hell would that filthy animal bother me?” He yelled, lying through his teeth.

whiitelight:  
Lou was calm by virtue of being high, and not only high, knowing that his calmness egged David on to new heights of hysteria only served to make Lou more composed, sadistically, it was his way of yelling back. He was certain it was doing more damage before, but now looking at the hysterical David he regretted staying so nonchalant.  
“David,” Lou said sadly, like he knew, “if you don’t want me to fuck other people, you know, I’ll give it up for you. You don’t even have to, as well.” Lou sighed, walking over slowly, as to not startle David, “fuck, I’d probably let you cut my dick off…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
And at that moment David knew that it was indeed possible to love and hate a man with such ferocity and depth, that whoever would come up with the proper term of endearment to describe such feeling, that person would certainly be awarded with the world’s greatest riches. Why of all the men and women he had dated and been in relationships with, Lou had the most power over him? Lou made every bit of nerve in him twitch and throb with angst and fury, just as he could make every strand of hair in his body rise to great heights of pleasure. The conundrum of his actions and his choice of words whirl him into a trance that would be the death of him; is this what romance truly is? A display portrayed by the master himself?  
Cheeks burned darkly red as guilt consumed his inner core; there lay his birthday present, on the ground. He was on the verge of crying, of what is uncertain; was it guilt? Was it the sweetness in his words? What is it, love? “I hate you.” David responded softly, picking up the mess he had created and placing them on the desk it was once on. He then held his wrist forward and rubbed his shirt against where he had hit accidentally hit him with the candle; a faint grey ash on his leather jacket. “So much, Lou.”

whiitelight:  
Oh. Lou sighs at David’s words, looking down with big dark eyes. Lou must be a real fool, the way he treats everybody so cruel. He knew that there was evil between his teeth, that laying in his chest was a reclining vindictiveness, that Lou was twisted. Lou knew that, and he looked at his hands, and knew they’d never be clean. He was silent for excruciatingly long, almost disappearing, wisps of person floating through the air, smoke.  
“I love you,” Lou responds quietly, looking up from the carpet to watch David try to get some ash off his coat, “so much,” Lou mirrors quietly, standing still and tall.  
He heard that a lot, that he was hated. Lou, as a grown man and even a young boy knew he was a bitter person, and it just fermented over time, thick and red Merlot hate. Hate he could use, hate that was keen and sharp. But he never hated David. Vaguely annoyed by, sure, but never hated. Lou didn’t believe you should hate the people you love, and although rude and careless, he loved him. That’s all, pure and simply. Lou loved him.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David remained quiet, staring now at the grey stain that soiled his white sleeved shirt. At this point, he was no longer David; he was an entity of guilt, an embodiment of remorse, a walking goo of wishing he had not spat so cruelly to one of the very few people that actually mattered to him more than himself. David’s nose was beginning to shade a light pink as his eyes began to blink in swift, restrained motion; much like how one would in an attempt to hold back the tears. He desperately wanted to apologize, just throw the world in a bucket, grab Lou and fly far, far, away from where they were and just be there; there in each other’s comfort and love.  
David took a deep breath, smiling apologetically as he did so out in the open. Never had they ever apologized for anything that caused them to spew venom at each other’s face or groan at each other out of spite. Never had the words sorry slip through mouths filthy with hate. Never had they had the need to say silly things that make them what they are; two strong, queens that melt weakly only for each other. Never. Never.  
“I love you too, darling.” David sniffled, unable to contain himself; a tear caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry.” And there he was, sobbing like a real mess in his cut, pitched, heave of breath. “I mean it.” He’d purr, almost begging Lou to believe.  
Never, until now.


	2. Chapter 2

whiitelight:  
“Don’t,” Lou cut David off firmly, “you’re being pathetic, baby,” Lou says quietly, compassionately, despite the crudeness of his words, taking a couple of short steps towards the sobbing hysterical nymph and wiping off a tear, mouth hanging open slightly and giving him a wild eyed look of love, even crying, Lou was always impressed by David’s grace, taking David’s clenching hand smoothly into his own, holding it for a second near David’s face, gleaming shards of chrome love falling from the touch, slipping in their sadness down Lou’s wrist. He never wanted to make David cry, and he let out a profoundly sad sigh, taking a step forward and running his fingers through David’s hair, bringing him closer, feeling the new heat of David’s body against his own.  
“Shh,” Lou mumbles, “it’s fine. I’m a mean man, it’s alright to hate me.” Lou sighs, fingers getting tangled in David’s golden wheat hair. “It’s alright, I should’ve come home earlier…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
And that was David Bowie; a moment of fit, a crying mess of ugly sobbing, an inconsistent muddle of decision making, mood management and everything in general. He had tampered too many times trying to toughen up and though he had made notable success, most of them flunked. He was and always will be the shy, sensitive, overly dramatic, queen that would weep after demanding a fair fight. And with Lou, he was nothing more than the always fearful David, paranoid of Lou ever getting tired and leaving him.  
There he was, stealing Lou’s spotlight yet again; crying and being comforted when it should be Lou that should feel the warmth embrace of love. Guilty, David did his best to stiffen up a soft, bittersweet giggle. “I’m not pathetic.” David pouted, tugging on Lou’s jacket in his little way of asking permission to hug the man. “Lou,” The Duke mused in his tiny, guilt – soaked voice, “I love you… So much that I hate having to share you.”

whiitelight:  
Lou just wanted David to calm down, being not as prone to hysterics himself, Lou usually just tried to defuse the situation. Not to say Lou isn’t incredibly sensitive and volatile, but he expresses his extreme emotional neediness is different ways over different issues. His fingers fluttered just below into the warm obsidian confines of David’s open cardigan, fluttering up his warm welcoming sides like a trapped butterfly, allowing David to pull him further into the silky warm embrace, belated sniffles and all.  
“You want to try to be monogamous?” Lou asked quietly, “totally?” He sounded sort of surprised, leaning his chin against David’s shoulder, still wrapping his hands around his waist, a sweet caress, “you know, I’ll always be daddy’s,” jokingly and a peel of laughter, giving David a forlorn, expecting look, half like a kicked puppy wanting forgiveness for the original sin.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Unbeknownst to many, Lou was indeed very romantic; he did things in ways you wouldn’t expect the likes of him to do. Often he portrayed an uncaring bastard who had a knack to send journalist up the wall yet, could melt the coldest of uncaring hearts lost to promiscuity; he could fuck like a demon and love like an angel. To David’s standards, Lou’s voice alone was enough to make his body tremble under his command but then, taking away parts of him would make him less of a whole. That said, Lou could woo anyone with just a simple ‘hello’. That bothered David a little.  
“I’m not asking you to, though.” By now, the Duke’s breathing had normalized, pulse rate soothed by the warm embrace. Simply content of being in his arms. “Daddy just needs attention too.”

whiitelight:  
If David could take anyone to bed, Lou could take anyone to the state of near-tears melancholia, before anything else, a rock n roll star, an alley cat, Lou was a poet. Lou kissed down David’s jaw, letting out a new chuckle, shoulders squaring a bit into a playfully predatory dance, playing the new prey with a slightly swish of the hips, Lou’s fingers traveling down David’s front and below his shirt, tracing over the golden hairs that trickle from his belly button.  
“Oh, do you now?” Lou asked with a coquettish smile, taking a step backwards into the kitchen table, “you’ve got mine…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Lou!” David yelled embarrassed, cheeks flushing as red as his nose. “Quit it!” The Duke demanded, backing away from Lou by a mere inch, fingers tickled by fine leather as they fell from Lou’s shoulder to his biceps. How he could turn everything into a chase of emotional distress to sexual starvation remains a mystery to David; it was as if Lou held him by the strings of his heart and his dick. Lou indeed, is a man of many.  
“You’re dirty.” And though his words declined the inviting gesture, shoulders rocked to and fro, suggestively biting his lip in a pout.

whiitelight:  
Lou nodded, and pulls his hips up onto the kitchen table behind him, fingers grasping at David’s collar, pulling the warm other between Lou’s slightly parted knees, leaning forward and pulling at David’s shirt with big, dreamy eyes, kissing up his neck, fingers wracking the fabric for seeming answers to his sudden sexual needs, “I’d say so,” Lou agrees with a whisper, letting out another slight lustful moan of frustration. If the other man couldn’t fuck Lou dry, he knew David can, Lou nearly panting like a bitch in heat, “won’t you /take care of me?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The fluttering feeling of Lou pecking away at his neck had gotten him riled up from the hip down; lips soft, hungrily tasting flesh. Though he kept a stern, emotionless façade over his angelic features, David could feel the excitement from under his shirt. Dragging the lengthy scarf of his shoulders with one hand, laced it over Lou’s wrists that were conveniently within reach by David’s neck level, and knotted them from underneath. Coiling the other end with the same hand, he raised his arm upward, which brought Lou’s now tied wrists over his head; elbows bent right by Lou’s cheeks. “What’s the magic word?” He teased, hooking the fabric onto the cupboard’s antic, huge, thick knobs for support. Lips tracing Lou by the chin with calculated kisses.

whiitelight:  
Lou rolled his eyes, a teasing, bashful, “fuck me, daddy,” in his best girl-voice, a porn star tilt of the head as his arms are extended upwards, biceps flexing and peeking out from his shirt, looking obstinate as he is put in silken bondage, always a punk, giving David the look of a street kid that doesn’t respect anyone, a ‘prove it, fucker’ look, a wanton look of someone who desperately needs David to /prove it/, to put Lou in his place, to transform his body into a mindless fuck-thing for a moment, but also to touch him, to want him, to untie him afterwards and want him more, with kisses and hugs and guilty looks of cats who just had their fill.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“What was that, my baby? Daddy didn’t hear you.” The Duke purred, snickering in the delight of seeing Lou bound despite his lean, muscular frame. With the scarf tugged on one hand, David bucked his hips from left to right, parting Lou’s knees even wider. The free hand pulling the drawer open between Lou’s calves, ensuring that should he attempt to squirm, David would still have a good form of control over him. He then pulled a leather crop from the box’s confinements and ever slowly dragging it against Lou’s right thigh. The Duke, hooking the end of the scarf onto the other cupboards knob to keep Lou bound in his position and David’s hand free.

whiitelight:  
“Fuck me, daddy,” Lou repeated in a more serious voice, a sultry hum in his voice, breath hitching now. The leather crop in David’s hand, the harsh leather thing, well used, gently worn and slightly browning. Lou tugged on his restraints, happy to find the scarf completely incapacitating, moaning lustily as David drags the crop across his thigh, threatening the lashing he wants, “are you going to punish me for staying out /late/ with /boys/?” Lou mumbles slutty, withering under David’s touch and the hypnotizing leather running over the regretful barrier of pants.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Lost in the conflict of Lou’s demanding plea and his own predatorily, hungry mood, leather snapped hard against Lou’s right thigh at an instant. Silencing the source of which was about to break David’s concentration. David’s left fang buried deep onto his lower lip, tugged and contoured a slightly audible, coquettish hiss, disorienting David’s normal pitch into a dark, condescending order. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Daddy’s talking.”  
A devious chuckle followed, lifting the crop to run up between Lou’s thigh, pushing the head of the crop right onto Lou’s crotch. Purposely allowing a brief poke before it further ascended to lift Lou – no, the filth – covered shirt that belonged to neither of them, up. Leather against flesh, against a trail of hair over his abdomen. “Now Lulu, tell Daddy, did you suck that boy’s cock?” David’s freehand crawling up from the back of Lou’s neck; fingers gathering the thick volume of Lou’s hair.

whiitelight:  
Lou let out a yelp of approval as he’s cut off by the Duke’s crop coming down on his thigh, stinging the sensitive skin, a peel of lustful laughter afterwards, meeting David’s gaze with hungry, whore eyes, shifting his hips slightly to pull his thigh away from David’s assault, but just habitual.  
Lou’s pale stomach was exposed from the top of his belt buckle, up the little trail of wirey black hairs that led to one of David’s favorite places, and to his hollow, speed-freak stomach, Lou watching and nearly quivering, talking with his head nearly lolling back, “I let that man shove his cock down my throat,” Lou mumbled with a nod, eyes forward and obstinate, challengingly bright, and although Lou had no mobility, he still had a certain amount of rebel pride, despite loving being at David’s full mercy. “Does that bother daddy? That I swallowed that man’s cum?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Only Lou can so proudly dignify himself as the vixen whore that he is; a queen to crave and die for, a queen to soil by any means necessary, a queen for keeps. Fingers locked and grabbed a handful of Lou’s curls, yanking his head back with a firm grasp. “That makes Daddy very angry.” The Duke replied in between teeth gritted at the view of Lou’s exposed neck; apple so delectable tantalizing. “You see, darling…” David paused, turning the crop upside down, the head pointed downwards, grip shifting past the handle; the thick, firm, unbending, leather – strip covered handle now grazing over Lou’s nipple, purposely hooking the whole onto Lou’s knob. He’d press a little harder, using his index finger to add weight and tease Lou. The head; flexible leather with a wide surface, slowly slipping past Lou’s jeans, tapping away past the shorter, curls, and sliding along Lou’s shaft.  
“This, belongs to daddy.” He purred, lips vibrating against Lou’s apple, tucking teasing from within his cavernous mouth, flickering to and fro as he lifted his jaw to coyly bite onto Lou’s jaw.


	3. Chapter 3

whiitelight:  
Lou let out a tiny groan when his head was pulled back, fingers curling around the scarf that held his wrists back as David so delectably descending onto him, his exposed neck, letting out a hum of low vibrations as he felt David’s lips graze the sensitive, exposed translucent skin that carries so much of his body. And then the crop, it’s wanton leather tongue sliding down Lou’s body making his hips roll, the heaviness on his nipples, his toes curling as he lifts his legs slightly into the air, letting out a mouthy moan as the leather thing teases him, running verticals down his half-hard shaft, Lou trying to get a better feeling with more mindless squirming, unsatisfied.  
Lou’s head leaned back, feeling David’s canines smooth ivory against his jaw, sending new, cold sensations down his neck, the little peek of David’s tongue, wet warm inviting mouth so tantalizingly close and now he was just animal biting, “yes,” Lou whispered, “I’m daddy’s, my cock’s daddy’s.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“That’s right, Lulu.” David further bit onto Lou’s jaw, feeling a good grasp of the bony structure that held the luscious mouth that produced such hypnotic, maddening affirmation of the Duke’s work. As his teeth withdrew from the lower chamber of Lou’s face, they fell onto the length of his neck once more, dragging the pointy tongue along his flesh, only to nest at the hollow spot between Lou’s collars. Hands free of obligations, David gripped onto the neckline, tearing the dastardly shirt that he loathed with passion; the scent of another man on his beloved Lou, the scent of a good fuck that had him cursing in silence.  
Discarded like the trash it was, it hung over Lou’s biceps idly as the Duke’s fingers busied to unbuckle Lou’s belt. Yanking it miserably with a single tug, he managed to undo the leather belt while he tugged impatiently, causing Lou’s hips to buck himself against the crop within his jeans. Setting the belt right beside Lou on the counter, knowing it would be of use shortly, he began pulling Lou’s jeans off, pushing the opened drawer between Lou’s knees to shut. Not bothering to undo the whole, Lou’s jeans undone, hugged him only from the knee down. Swiftly, pressing his palm against the flattened head of the crop between Lou’s thighs. “This belongs to Daddy.”

whiitelight:  
Lou felt the shirt being ripped off of him and knew exactly why the damp cum-rag was hanging limply and discarded around his biceps, threadbare fabric nearly disintegrating at a touch, letting out a low chuckle as he felt David’s inviting warm tongue against the butterfly meeting of his clavicles and sternum, a sensitive place on the body, a place of warm, untouched flesh, an innocent groove that only a lover can find not a fuck. David was right, he did belong to him, and Lou’s hawk fingers gripped the scarf, black nails clacking against each other.  
Lou certainly hoped the belt would be used shortly, and with love, his jeans were pulled down to his knees as he watched the Duke, looking vindictive, blue eyes aflame under a slightly creased brow, eyebrows arched and fingers quick to strongly move on Lou, Lou’s loins stirring at the sight, letting out a head rolling moan as The Duke claimed a piece of Lou he had wanted him to touch, sliding the crop over all of Lou’s sex parts, “yes,” Lou mumbled, nearly in tears, feeling the hard leather chord against his hardening and quivering cock, flat bill pressed to his puckered blushing asshole.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Thanking the heavens for being left – handed, David prided himself the ability of undoing whatever form of constraint he had on from the hip down with ease. While he continued to flex the flat, bendable, leather surface against the base of Lou’s cock, gradually cupping the mass of his sac, David briskly flicked and lashes his tongue, dipping into the curves of Lou’s collars. The sound of his buttoned slacks chimed as they fell down to the Duke’s ankles. In hand was the Duke; rock hard and undoubtedly lusting for Lou’s tight orifice.  
“Now watch how better Daddy fucks that dirty ass of yours.”  
He spoke in tongues; teeth clamped together, fangs predominantly on display as he withdraws from Lou’s body. Hastily grabbing Lou by one arm tucked under his knee, yanking him unevenly off the counter, enough to expose Lou to a dry entry. David grabbed hold of his dick, setting it to rest over Lou’s while the once hand that held his cock, grabbed a full of his curls just by the forehead, “Now spit.” He demanded, aiming his face right over David’s cock, rubbing up against Lou’s as David’s hip moved in shy rhythms.

whiitelight:  
Lou moaned dirtily, David was a stud and he knew it, cock unimaginably large and glistening with precum already, Lou’s body quivering in anticipation already, toes curling, bucking against the leather crop on his groin, letting the pliable, soft, lose skin of his balls and cock try to get some traction with the teasing thing. And with the duke’s words, Lou shutters, visibly, eyes rising to his with dark long lashes, a look of half defiance plastered across his features, half unbreakable, vulnerable lusting.  
Lou felt David’s slick cock against his and he groaned, looking down through thick lashes to see, so long from an anatomical point of view it might threaten his abdomen, wrapping his legs around David slightly. They had never done it dry, and Lou was sure the lube from earlier was gone, too, a bit apprehensive, but welcoming of the pain, looking up at David before spitting wetly onto his cock, an obedient whore.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David was unimaginably certain of the pain it would cause Lou should he go in dry but with the constant need for sex, they had ran out of lube; not something you would openly hear in a household of two queens who, on a nightly basis, parted ways with love and ended up bedding men and women all hour ‘round. Desperate times clearly called for desperate measures.  
The musky scent of precum matched the shy amount of white stain over Lou’s shaft. Hungrily throwing a fiery kiss onto Lou’s lips, darting his tongue without permission, domineering over the wet muscle that resided in Lou’s mouth. The very hand that held him by the head retreated to knead his erection, soaking himself with Lou’s generous compliance. He groaned in between kisses, aggressively shoving Lou’s tongue as they collided.  
From beneath Lou was David’s head, stroking along the tight kiss of Lou’s ass. Barely the need to thrust his hip upward due to his length and his overall height, David guided his cock to part Lou’s tight muscle. “Daddy’s gonna fuck better than that slut you were with.” He grunted, tugging on Lou’s lower lip as he backed his head away. Focusing on grabbing Lou once more under his knees with both arms, siphoning his weight to press on David’s cock.

whiitelight:  
The muscle working its way behind Lou’s teeth seemed like foreshadowing for what’s to come, Lou’s mouth hanging open and accepting it, rocking his hips as much as he was able to with the counter digging into his back, paying close attention to the sensation of the hard head of David’s cock.  
Lou’s toes curled until the joints were going to pop, legs giving up from straining to hard, giving an intermittent nod before a pleading animal noise, something like a moan, only more distressed, body shaking, muscles sloshing back and forth, the feeling of being impaled, Lou’s abdomen tightening as he tries to relax, feeling David’s hot, hard length dig slowly into him, Lou’s fingers curling further into the fabric, a glisten of sweat across his chest and David’s relatively dry cock stretches Lou’s pink, bruised hole, a quiet, whispered, “oh, fucking Christ,” added, head hanging and watching with almost sickly intent as David pushes in further, loving every excruciating centimeter.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Knees turned jelly as he felt every inch of him engulfed by Lou’s taut hole; walls constricted over the girth of his cock in a labyrinthine, snug grip, added by the fact that he went in with but very, very little, not quite effective lubrication. Lost in Lou’s endless chorale of groaning, grunting of a mix of pain and pleasure, David continued slid himself right in, thrusting in one, swift, relenting motion. Feeling the very base of his cock kiss Lou’s plump cheeks, length fully inside Lou.  
The Duke paused, savoring the godly experience; an exchange of hurt for satisfaction. Gratified even more so as Lou struggled under his command. Adjusting Lou’s weight evenly onto both arms, eyes wandering to check the scarf that had now gone slightly loose; a few more of his flailing gesture, Lou would’ve gone free.  
As he paused, David crushed Lou’s lips once more, hungrily devouring his tongue, ripping him of any chance to pant, breathe, or grunt; biting, tugging, pulling as he allowed Lou’s legs, wrapped around him, to support the weight. Fingers ran along the sides of Lou’s neck, descending swiftly to twist and pinch over Lou’s hardened nipples, chest glistening wet. He took the opportunity to take hold of Lou’s belt, wrapping it over his neck, locking it just the buckle, leaving the pin open. Using both of his hands to slightly, very cautiously tighten the coil in an attempt to constrict Lou’s neck as careful as possible, he grunted in between kisses, demanding answers, “Can your pathetic fuckboy do this, Lou? Can he, huh?”

whiitelight:  
And with that thrust Lou’s body twitched and tried to rejecting the intrusion, impalement, but it was clear will power would win out, and Lou’s chorus continued, animal moans of occasional wincing but mostly just the eye-rolling-back feeling of The Duke’s thick cock in and out, stretching his hole, fucking his sensitive insides silly. He was twitchy with pleasure, struggling to keep himself up, legs wrapping tight around The Duke as his muscle clenched, spasmed in his legs.  
And then Lou’s leather belt now around his neck, threatening him, Lou felt the familiar warn leather slide over his neck like a welcomed hand, momentarily distracted from the wanton kissing, which now preoccupied them, but now attention completely with the belt, closing in around his frail neck and making his body throb, Lou swore that he got tighter around David, that it was just too much, gasping and trying to breath but not wanting too, a twitching, fucked mess, “n…,” was all Lou could get in.


	4. Chapter 4

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The Duke continued to thrust hard against Lou, shoving himself at full length, gaining momentum and speed. In his calculating mind, David knew when to stop, but a darker side of him wishes not to. David tightened the leather belt; the shiny, silky – soft looms kissing Lou’s flesh like heated candled, burning wax onto his skin. Lou’s apple locked between the web that bridged David’s index and thumb, nails digging on the side of his neck, a burst of crimson polish against Lou’s paleness.  
Though lips abandoned lips, David sought to drag his tongue over Lou’s cheek, biting, hissing, grunting heavily; inaudible mumbles stifled as his shoulders quivered, feeling his groin churn with excitement. “Christ, Lou!” David yelled, moaning and breathing hotly onto Lou’s face, bucking his hips like a rabbit gone mad in heat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He heaved; cock pulsating as he felt the rush build along his shaft.  
The Duke briefly stood on toes as he shot heavy, strands of white inside Lou. Losing much strength from the leg down, palms slid off Lou’s body and landed onto the counter, supporting his weight, as he pressed his worn body onto Lou, his cheek resting on Lou’s shoulder.

whiitelight:  
Lou’s breath momentarily stopped as his head pounded out, the hard leather pliable like another extension of his being, like a hand or foot that him and the Duke share Siamese, Lou’s breath stopping from his nose and mouth, sensation throbbing from David’s hard cock that was sliding in and out of him with perhaps more vigor than his worn out body could take, Lou’s hands falling limp in a tiny death, only to be regained with his breath, scrambling to prop himself up, feeling David’s closeness. He was literally inside of him, and it felt so nice to feel the breath that was even partially Lou’s as well, to do this to him, Lou’s own abdomen churning, cock desperate from its backwards nerve slamming but not enough to make it do anything but drip like a pathetic leaky faucet, borderline painful.  
Lou shuddered when he felt David’s hot cum spill into his stomach, full now, cheeks aflame, David was the only one who got to become a part of him like this, and having him inside like this seemed vaguely holy for a second, Lou’s quivering body around David’s cock, Lou’s head falling to the side, damp chin against tousled hair, letting out a soft sigh, “God,” Lou said, half astonished, body still quivering around David’s once turgid member, worn out, “Duke…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David literally shook as he slid himself right out, feeling the hot remains of his dirty deed trickle down his thighs; that, and Lou’s share over their pressed body. He mustered a pathetic, barely cheerful laugh due to exhaustion, taking a moment to breathe and regain composure before he unhooked the scarf of the cupboard knobs. Tongue assuaged the now dry lips, body thirsting for hydration. With the little strength David had left, knees barely supporting his weight – had pressed themselves against the counter surface to avoid falling off, David lifted his chin and kissed Lou by the jaw lovingly, panting still with lungs spent.  
“I’m, I’m sorry.” David mused in between heavy breathing. He loved Lou without question and though sex was rough, mind – blowing, and godly divine, The Duke amicably apologized for any harm he thinks he had caused Lou. His arms must be strained by now and his body, weak from the past few hours before their exchange of passion and scent; David thought, showering Lou’s neck and shoulders kisses of love.

whiitelight:  
Lou’s fist fell, still tied together, and even though Lou could now easily undo it with his teeth he enjoyed the bound sensation, hooking his arms around David’s neck, letting out an innocent little whimper, eyes half closed with happy sleepiness, breath ragged but slowing, letting himself fall limp so when the Duke regained his composure he could sweep him off to the bedroom.  
“Oh, shut up,” Lou chuckles, completely spent, “that was a good birthday present.” Lou adds, coyly, turning his head to kiss David on the forehead, sliding off the counter and standing slightly on quaking legs, arms still wrapped around the duke’s shoulders, long black lashes framing dark eyes, “let’s go to bed.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Lets.” David unhooked the now soiled pair of legware off his ankles in a single kick, pulling Lou much closer against him as Lou slid off the counter. “You wear Daddy out.” Came his modest compliment, scooping Lou one leg after the other; it helped being taller with his tacky boots on. Walking bare from the hip down with Lou in his arms, David carried his beloved Lou towards the bedroom, kicking the door behind with his heel.  
The bed was neatly made and the room was awfully clean; the Duke having the place sorted out as he waited earlier. Setting Lou onto the soft cot, David stole a swift peck on his lip, smiling widely, simply content of this exchange of affection.

whiitelight:  
Lou chuckled, eyes half closed, wrapping his arms around the back of David’s neck, happy to be carried, to be supported by the almost supernaturally strong David, Lou living like a king, he mused to himself, having such a sexy man carry him off to bed after his night of debauchery. Lou’s body was a bit too stocky and big from this, thinner this week but not by much, making the proximity of the bedroom welcome. Lou descended into the whispy white bed, letting his legs fall flat and his face fall back into its calm, dreamt state, looking at David through long, damp lashes, clothes gone, just his thin, glistening body, sleepy, dreamy like a purple like before dawn. Lou grabbed the Duke’s arm, pulling him down on the bed after him, “hold me,” Lou made his mumbling demand.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Dragged abruptly by Lou’s demand, David fell off stance and onto Lou; bodies pressed firmly against each other. David giggled, obliged by the sweet request, sliding off of Lou to lay on his side; fingers caressing Lou’s cheek, thumb tracing his lips. “Demanding little bugger, aren’t we?” The Duke chuckled once more, leaning to kiss Lou’s lips, grazing his own thumb. Eyes bewildered at the precious being by his side. “You haven’t opened my present yet, love.”  
David rolled to the edge of the bed and shot his arm underneath; pulling a big rectangular box that soon required both of his arms. Exhausted to even sit, he rolled back onto his side, facing Lou and placed the box over Lou’s hip. Knowing that Lou adored leather so damn much, the Duke prided himself on purchasing a custom made leather jacket that their initials tagged in one of its inner pockets.

whiitelight:  
Lou closed his eyes, leaning into David’s delicate touch, feeling the gentle cat-like touch, mewling slightly, content in the small embrace, a thousand rainbows dappling the windowsill joyously, Lou’s eyes glimmering in the light under wet, heavy eyelashes, hair slightly damp, leaning into the kiss and tasting the sweet tangy lips.  
Lou sat up slightly, propped up by his elbow, looking at the big rectangular box and setting it on his hips, fingers curling under the lid and then lifting it up, seeing the shiny leather and nearly shrieking like a fourteen year old who got exactly what she wanted. Lou gently pulled the jacket out, holding it up and closely examining it, finding the custom tag on the lining, smiling at David, “thank you,” Lou mumbled, genuinely, “I love you.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The Duke melted at the sight; it wasn’t very frequent of Lou to be all smiling and joyous. Typically, he’d be in the dark corner strumming his guitar or doing coke or drinking or simply just being silent and observant. They were opposites and as said, opposites do attract. David felt incredibly proud of getting Lou a leather jacket as a gift; obvious as it may seem.  
Silently, David leaned forward, pressing his lips lovingly at Lou’s, smiling mirthfully as he pulled back. “I love you too.” He replied, patting Lou’s bare lap. “Remind me to fuck you with just that on.” He teased, reaching for a box of cigarettes on his side of the counter. Taking one and offering Lou the same.

whiitelight:  
Lou quickly sobered up, pulling the leather jacket around his bare torso, the fresh leather gently clasping at his skin, Lou letting out a soft sigh as the overwhelming animal smell, fresh, erupts from the coat, mixing with the scent of slightly sweaty sex, Lou closing his eyes for a second. “Later,” Lou retorts, a sideways smile and a low growl, “maybe daddy’ll get it,” he teases back, taking the cigarette and retrieving the lighter from his side, leaning in to light them for both of them at once.  
Lou glances out the window, turning his eyes back to David, “I’m glad you’re not mad anymore…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David snickered, taking a long, soothing drag, reclining into the bed. For a moment, the ceiling seemed quite an interesting view; the tranquil stillness and the plain beige color plateau gave David a gush of serenity after a steamy, literal on – the counter, kitchen sex. A genuine smile and a soft nod replied Lou’s comment, tapping the end of the stick off the bed; ashes falling careless onto the floor.  
“I doubt I could ever, um, ever stay mad at you, my love.” Another drag, reaching for Lou’s hand. “You could fuck Angie till she bleeds and I still won’t get mad, Lou.”

whiitelight:  
Lou moved to put an ashtray between them, watching David float off, his perfect features languid, cool, face turning almost a familiar shade of quiet blue, his small chest rising and falling, his hands white around the cigarette, tips still blushed pink from the act, Lou shivering and taking a long drag himself.  
Lou took David’s hand, smiling softly, “oh, you would,” Lou nods, thinking about it, letting the idea fester in his mind, “you’d get jealous, but that’s okay.” Lou turns David’s hand in his, “I don’t have any intention of that…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Jealous darling, not mad.” David loved clean sheets. Apart from his overly hygienic need, it is imperative for the bedroom to be kept clean next to the bathroom; a near unhealthy obsession of cleanliness. Taking a heavy drag, David placed his cigarette tipped onto the ashtray, blowing in the opposite direction Lou was at. “Well, she does.” The Duke confirmed, a slight pitch of jealousy as he tapped the end of his stick, dusting the ash off. “She thinks you’re a hot stud with a big dick.”

whiitelight:  
Fresh sheets were crinkly and fresh under his skin, Lou taking short little drags happily and squirming a bit, feeling his still tender flesh sink into the nice mattress. He listened to David and frowned, bitterly, glancing away. He did not really want to deal with David’s marital problems, and definitely wouldn’t even bring up that he’s already made the rounds with Angie. They were both miserable and Lou wasn’t sure why. He guessed some people are just happier when they’re in pain, or they just don’t care about marriage as anything more than a legal agreement. “Uh, well at least you guys agree on something,” Lou jokes, sardonically, rolling his eyes. “For such an attractive family you have awful taste…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“She does.” Came David’s sudden response, rolling onto his stomach to pick the cig up and take another heavy drag, finishing the stick of. “She has a thing for blondes.” David couldn’t help but laugh after; he had never seen himself quite a handsome fellow. He knew he was glamorous, petite, and had a little bit of a sexy twang, but handsome? No. He was nothing but a pale, bony, London boy who sings with odd octaves that seem to attract a tiny army of followers. “I, on the other hand, have excellent taste.” The Duke proudly announced, winking at Lou; teeth buried onto his lower lip as he often does, fingers walking along Lou’s bare lap.

whiitelight:  
The weird lithe creature with the funny life and wild eyes was probably the sexiest thing this side of the moon, and this wasn’t only Lou’s opinion, although that is the one that matters the most. “I guess I have a thing for blondes,” Lou murmurs, brushing his fingers through David’s slightly damp, blond hair with a smile, it hanging from its usual place around his face in pointy strands, severe, the Duke stunningly beautiful and powerful. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Lou murmurs bashfully, glancing away before looking down at David’s slender and wayward hand, “enough of that,” he murmurs, brushing it away.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Oh please, my angel. I would stare at you all day if you wouldn’t think that’s creepy.” Says the Duke with a soft giggle and a wide grin. Lou is, to the Duke, a fallen star; a star so bright and so brilliant that not all may appreciate its true beauty. Tough when needed but soft inside, romantic but tragic, loving but despised, deep but misunderstood; Lou was a man of many and David wishes badly to be a man of his. “Just look at you.” David scooting closer, brushing his hand along Lou’s fine curls, “You’ve eyes I’d drown myself into.”

whiitelight:  
Lou stops for a moment, completely still, mind slowly falling away into disuse, face calm and dreamy, staring back at David. This is how it feels to be loved, Lou thought, this was it. “I adore you, too,” Lou says quietly, bringing his thumb up to David’s cheek, gently tracing the beautiful formed bones, letting out a amorous sigh, “and if I was a better teacher, maybe you’d know you’ve turned into an angel before my very eyes. That you’re everything. That I love your closeness and your nakedness and your cold alabaster skin.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Oh, send me to detention, ma’am.” David joked, a wide grin and a joyous giggle. “You won’t leave me, will you, love?” With the divorce papers coming to a close, David was beginning to feel more and more clingy and depressed at the thought that he would be left without love. Though many had raised potentials, he had his heart set on Lou. The Lou that he could trust and be at ease with, fight but never leave, and make love and fulfill all the kinks he could think of. Feeling the rush of blood over his cheeks, David bit his lip and snagged a pillow, covering his face, peeking from the corner. “Oh, now you’re just being cute.”

whiitelight:  
Lou giggled, biting his nail, turning his eye to David, “Madame lulu with be your mistress forever and ever,” Lou jokes back, confidently, squeezing The Duke’s hand, making himself comfortable half laying on him, blushing baby flesh against blushing baby flesh. It was nice, Lou thought, it was more than nice. But the thought occurred to him, “why do you ask?” Lou watched David’s cute antics, the bashful, child like action, tugging very gently at the corner of the pillow, “not like you.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David stuck his tongue out at Lou, playfully taunting his beloved mistress, so to speak. An assured glimmer tracing over eyes willowed with sadness. “Well Madame Lulu,” Came a stressed, coy smile, adjusting the pillow beneath Lou’s head to ensure he doesn’t strain his neck. “I’ve filed for divorce.” David was unsure whether it was a good or a bad thing, or did he feel the need to make a fuss out of it; but what troubled him was the very thought of being without anyone. He wouldn’t want to burden dear Lulu with his problematic relationship troubles. “Angie doesn’t know yet, though.” And then that, too.


	5. Chapter 5

whiitelight:  
“Oh.” Lou mumbles, sobering up, watching David fuss uncomfortably for a second before pulling him into a warm, natural embrace, kissing at his cheek. Lou knew that it upset him, that David had become accustom to their arrangement and the idea of being without keeper made the chances of rogue David wandering out alone never to be seen again that much greater. Not that Lou would ever let that happen, and he held David for a second. Lou knew he’d get a call from Angie soon, and God, would it be awful. Hysterics. This was awful enough, the terror seething off of David, “it’ll be alright. I’m sure she’ll sign them,” that sounded pretty bad, in retrospect, “I love you. Do you…” Lou looked away for a second, mumbling to the wall, “um, want a replacement commitment?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Held within arms strong and loving, David battled the urge to weep. Not that he wasn’t happy about the divorce or had regrets over it, the mere thought of losing drowning himself in vices and work even more so might actually break him more than the divorce did. It was already becoming difficult to keep up the father role with an active social life, a career, and drugs, added pressure would just cause him to fall flat, dead on the pavement. But then there’s Lou, being all motherly, affectionate, sensitive, adorably cute and shy; the Lou Reed not everyone gets a chance to see. “I love you too, Lulu darling, but I wouldn’t want you stuck with a hand – me – down like me self.” David frowned; Lou deserves better, far better than David could ever be.

whiitelight:  
Lou half-wishes David would cry and get it over with, Lou half expecting David to be one of those men who think they can get through a divorce dry-eyed. Lou found it painful naive, had watched plenty of hunky, masculine drug dealer boyfriends sob. “Don’t call yourself that,” Lou snapped compassionately, the idea obviously offending his sensibilities. “Look, you know I would, I adore you. But I don’t,” Lou sighed, thinking for a second, the air painfully still, “just want to be your keeper like Angie. I don’t want you to treat me like her…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Like a queen?” David spat angrily. The Duke prided himself much to weep for something so petty. He knew what his flaws were but not as much as Angie knew hers; he was burned out on and offstage and with everyone casually sleeping with everybody, he couldn’t simply fathom what the problem was. She went with men and women just as much as David did; in fact, it was within their circle of friends so they both knew who they were banging and who they were kissing. But at the end of the day, they live under one roof raising one child.  
“Ungrateful bitch, she is.” He shook his head, almost shaking as he lit himself another stick to rid off the angst. “But you, my darling, should be treated like a god.” 

whiitelight:  
Lou frowned, “you should’ve never married her.” He didn’t despise Angie like David, didn’t really understand why they got so worked up about the sex. It always seemed like a big competition, like they were strutting around seeing who could get the most cunt or cock, wagging their tails and preening their plumage. Lou couldn’t handle that, especially with a kid. His sex drive was hardly that impressive, either.  
“I don’t know about that. I’m very hard to live with,” Lou frowns, “I need to be alone a lot. I leave in the middle of the night. I don’t think…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David gave Lou a stare of disbelief; lips parted in silence, as his brow rose to great heights. “Baby love, one way or the other, we’re bound to meet at the next alley.” As much as that sounded and justified how much of a whore they were, it was meant as a compliment; that both of them knew each other’s grounds and would not try to go over each others’ lives so critically as what Angie had done. They both loved men, women, trans, drugs, getting drunk, wasted, whipped, bent over by a pole and the list goes on. They loved each other as they are and would not dare change their ways unless utterly necessary. Quite a little of what the Angie – David pair was.  
“All I ask is I’d know where you are so I won’t um, won’t worry like an old hag.” David giggled, taking a drag.

whiitelight:  
Lou liked the sound of that, “we are just alley cats, huh, slinking back to our cardboard box?” Lou giggled, lying his head down again and leaning his cheek against his chest, letting his arms fall over David’s slender body, looking up at him watching him smoke. They were a bit devious, admittedly, enjoying a whole range of certain experiences.  
“Oh, alright,” Lou nods, sitting up a little bit and snatching the cigarette from David’s fingers, taking a drag and smiling around the thick, white smoke, “what are you asking? Live with you? Be your wife?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Well…” David taunted, “I was gonna say ride Daddy, but that works too.” David laughed, feeling himself a bit excited; room dropping the temperature with David wanting to keep things deathly cold, Lou’s vixen voice, and the mere thought of them parading in the streets covered in every bit of human being that had an orifice to fuck. The Duke, now slightly stiff but appreciated the solemn chat. With a sigh of contentment, David began kneading his fingertips onto Lou’s curls, “Be my everything, basically.”

whiitelight:  
“Alright,” Lou nods, handing the cigarette back with a smirk, “everything,” Lou mumbles, now a bit distracted but David’s clear excitement, so soon, too, coyly settling his head down in The Duke’s lap, cheek brushing David’s firm thighs, crossing his limber long legs in front of him and rubbing them together broodingly, playing with the hem of the duke’s shirt, tugging at it and playing with hard buttons, Lou looking decisively more mistress by the second, a confident cock of the head, finally sounding a bit shrewd, “again, really?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David responded with an awkward, apologetic laugh, rolling his shoulders with his arms spread out to gesture the international sign of “what can I say?” Lou was very close that he needed not to talk to get him all worked up. But then he did; him in that glorious sex voice of his that gets David hard even in sleep. Was it borderline obsession? Possibly. “Um…” Added the pitched tone, hauling the blankets over his erection, not quite effectively as it did stood as a remarkable pillar.

whiitelight:  
Lou chuckled lowly for a second, moving slowly, lewdly, with the same kind of dangerous seductiveness as the haunting sway of Venus and Furs, shoulders moving slowly like a hunting animal as he rises from the bed, snatching The Duke’s cover away and salivating at his catch. “Daddy’s been naughty,” Lou says lowly, leaning over to David and grabbing his ear between his teeth, leaving it red and sensual, “and needs a spanking,” Lou adds, pulling away, standing up and grabbing the belt from the floor, sitting down in the chair, “come here,” Lou patted, “cross my lap.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
And this was the love David wanted; a side that made him feel weak and skin crawling with anticipation, overpowered, handled. The tables had turned and it seems, Daddy is not quite very Daddy at all. David sat up like an excited child, somewhat embarrassed at his display of eagerness. Lips revealing a tiny, soft groan as bare nipples had grown hard from the bite.  
Shyly, taking small steps as he approached Lou, bending on his knees and setting himself over Lou’s lap, teeth sunk onto his index finger, lost in the thought Lou’s mouth, his belt, and the tormenting leather.

whiitelight:  
Lou adjusted David over his knee, pulling his shirt up to further expose his pert, white bottom, unmarred by pink or red agitation, Lou sliding his hand over it, feeling David’s erection rub on his thigh. “You’re terrible, getting all hard like this, we just fucked,” Lou chastised him, lips pursing, grabbing the belt and holding it horizontal over The Duke’s bum, “I’m going to teach you a lesson.” Lulu adds, lowly, before taking a short smack at David’s ass, painfully long, black leather snapping over flesh, Lou holding David in place with a commanding hand on his hip, “count them for me…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Cheeks flushed red at Lou’s remark; unable to conjure a witty comeback to justify his lascivious hunger for the man. He felt himself twitch at Lou’s grasp, fingers laced over his shaft, generously brushing against skin pale. “I’ve been very, very bad, Lulu.” Says David, tone pitched, gulping at the anticipated smack. “Onnnne…” Teeth gritted firmly at the first strike, making his body jerk; a faint lash of red over the pert cheek. Fingers hauled into a fist briefly, before relaxing, seeking the floor to whatever he can latch his hand on.


	6. Chapter 6

whiitelight:  
Even if the Duke was a whore, he was Lou’s whore, and that make Lou’s pants stir a bit, even though he’d never acknowledge it, stoic, brutal, two more with marching rhythm, smoothing his hand out across red cheeks until he sees David touching himself, his fingers over his impressive swelling shaft, and Lou snatched David’s hand away, “don’t touch yourself,” Lou reprimands, “you dog. That’s mine,” Lou claims, gesturing to David’s cock before coming down on David with two, cruel thrashes, hot and red across his ass.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David groaned in pain, hissing through teeth clenched as red marks stained the infamous snow – white tan. Toes curled in rhythm with his fingers, knees closing in as he did his best to be the diligent bitch, “Nnt…”. The Duke panted, taking most of what he could from Lou’s short break before his right palm flew to rub the assaulted flesh. “Three! Three!” He exclaimed, as if in fear of being mistaken yet rock hard against Lou’s demand.

whiitelight:  
“Seven more,” Lou cooed, sadistically, slamming the belt down onto David’s delicate flesh and nearly sending him off his lap, Lou happy to hear the pained moans from the Duke, who, as Lou could feel, was enjoying it an awful too much, getting through the next five with ease and tenderizing David’s delicate flesh into purple and pink tie dye.  
“How many is it now?” Lou asked, running his finger firmly against the duke’s trembling ass, “you’re so hard, maybe I should do more…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
He squirmed on Lou’s lap, tittering off balance but remained in position as his palms would slap the ground to keep him from falling; elbows would tremble weakly, as his once pristine tan had gone pink, showing slight cuts that if struck, would eventually cut open and bleed flippantly. As five smacks came in Lou’s rhythm, David had lost count as his thoughts swirled to comprehend the nerve wracking sensation; sweat forming over his temples, tone irregularly pitched, “Si— Sev… Six! Six, Lou!” Unsure whether he was right or wrong.

whiitelight:  
“Seven, so seven more.” Lou bites decisively, hauling The Duke’s trembling body firmer into his lap, keeping a warm, calloused hand on his shoulder to keep him carefully balanced across his knees, the cunning mistress. The welts were bursting like the new growth of spring, tiny buds of succulent red from David’s excruciatingly pure, firm ass. Lulu delivered them quickly, trying to to break any skin, and on the sixth, pausing, “so how many was that?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David began to whimper in a mix of excited, rasp pitch. Flesh torn revealing alignments of pinkish red marks, kissed by tiny speckles of blood. The Duke’s shirt has now gone darker, sweat kissing the fabric as his skin hugged the lot. “Lou, please!” The Duke screamed, chest thumping torn between the glorious punishment and the urge to beg Lou to fuck him, hard.

whiitelight:  
“Lou please, what? —it was six,” Lou sighed, giving a bit of mercy and delivering one, swift diagonal hit and guiding David to his knees in front of him. “If you want something,” Lou whispered chocolately, a finger across The Duke’s jaw, a slow, lewd mess, “you have to beg.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
At the last strike, David’s tone played between high and low, coming off rather sultry even for himself. Lou’s finger felt like needle tracing his delicate bony pelt that. The hairs on his skin rose, a similar feeling of extreme sensitivity from head to toe. Blood trickled off his rump enough to stain his thighs. Yet the urge to throw himself at Lou remained. Fingers clawed against the very jacket David had bought; in his petty attempt to beg and move himself onto him. Knees hitting the ground as his face rubbed against Lou’s chest quite cat – like, “Fuck me Lou, please!.” Lips parting, nose swelled with Lou’s natural scent, “I want that big, fat cock, Lou.”

whiitelight:  
Lou could nearly feel the hot, pungent musk radiating from his own body, sweltering with animalistic need, sinewy desire for more flesh, for contact, for mindless pedantic thrusting, for growing and biting and fucking and good cumming, Lou looking down as David’s sensuous white fingers dug needily, bitch in heat, into his coat. “Aren’t you a desperate slut, huh?” Lou teased, leaning over, “need my cock to fill you up, even though you know there’s no lube?” Lou’s finger traced David’s cheek dangerously, a silken giggle, raising his heeled boot to press its dirty sole against David’s erection, “fine,” lulu said, suddenly getting up, pointing to their small writing desk, “crawl there and bend over…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David abhorred dirty and would have flailed off the encounter altogether but Lou does him in such a way that he would roll in filthy if it meant getting fucked by the King of New York. He shuddered under Lou’s boot, helpless as he throbbing cock egged for attention. Lou filling his ears with such sultry, poetic filth that drove the Duke mad lusting more for Lou. He did as he was told, quite eager to be punished by Lou and his dastardly ways. Trying to steal kisses as he grabbed onto Lou’s jacket, dragging him to not cause a wall between them as he felt the edge of the desk meet his anxious body. Kisses bestowed over Lou’s chest, frightful yet somewhat hopeful of attempting to kiss Lou’s face, kissing, dragging his lips all over what he could, even the faintest spot on his chin. Fingers cupped the desk, guiding his blinded lust to do as he told, bend like the filthy whore he was.

whiitelight:  
David was such a dripping desperate slut for Lou, guiding his body back and splaying his legs open in wanton abandon, it was almost grotesque if Lou didn’t adore David as much as he did. Even from his frigid, commanding tour of vixen stoicism, David’s little love kisses across his faintly hairy chest and cheek made Lou’s heart flutter, leaning down for a second to kiss David back, lips meeting lips, a delicate little touch of love as Lou dragged David into a similar position he was in earlier, his crotch hitting Lou’s still clothed one, pathetic and naked, Lou’s fingers slipping lustily over his swelling cock, giving it a few rough strokes, biting numbly at his jaw. “Tell me what you want again,” Lou commanding, hips twitching.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Lou was David’s instant vodka; a few swing of roughness and whiff of New York’s smutty business riled him like snake during mating season. The need to slither and coil himself around Lou, to feel every inch of his body pressed against his, to take as much cock as he could of Lou was so prominent that the thought made him wet. Lips hungry for Lou’s, pushing himself further onto his, scooping much as he could, tongue flailing to meet his before they withdrew to utter such commandeering decree. Pursed lips, David groaned in a stuttering, toned fashion as Lou fiercely claimed hold of his erection, shoulder’s rolling back as he felt the edge of the desk welcome him to nearly recline against it and Lou nipping away over his jaw. “I… I wa… I want your… Oh god, Oh god,” He prayed, melting away under Lou’s touch; gripping harder onto his leather jacket, pulling him close that their hips buck against each other, “I want that cock of yours Lou, I want it in my fucking ass.”

whiitelight:  
Lou smiled, so ever tempted by David’s pink lips to make them utter those filthy, naughty words again and again, to make David moan them and cry them and cum them. Lou unzipped his pants, using other hand to knead at David’s exposed, bloody flesh, fingers tracing the belt marks before retrieving it from the desk, wrapping it back around David’s neck as his hips gyrated wantonly against David, teasingly, stroking him painfully slow. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lou teases, viciously, yanking at the belt once, “what was that?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The Duke hissed in pain as fingers taunted the bloody lacerations behind; it was already painful enough that wounds meet the hard, wooden desk, let alone purposely toyed with. Brows creased as his lips quivered, disorienting his attempt to moan in pleasure, overpowered by glorious, glorious pain. David purred loud as a cat fucked as the enticing texture skimmed over his neck, disdainfully teasing his apple and constricting him air. He felt himself drip lightly, staining thighs pale. His eyes dropped to the very corner, eliciting an excited growl at the sight of Lou’s cock, fingers twitching in anticipation, knees knocking slightly but managed to keep himself on footing.

whiitelight:  
Lou sucked on his fingers for a second, looking up at the Duke sprawled out on his back on the desk, knocking over a jar of pens, Lou smiling and slicking up his throbbing cock, positioning himself at David’s entrance, slowly pushing his hips forward, centimeter by dreadful centimeter, retracting them barely past the tip and trying again, moaning, leaning over to kiss at David’s chest, hold him up by the knees, letting out a loud groan as he finally burrows himself inside David, letting out a grown as their flesh connects, Lou pulling at the duke’s makeshift collar.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Torn between a whirl of emotion; a fit between the sheer gratifying feeling of leather around his neck, tugged like a leashed ocelot beneath the vile grip his master, and the numbing pain of his gashes weighed upon against the desk. “F…..UCK.” David screamed through teeth clenched hard, glaring at Lou with venomous eyes that vowed vengeance upon his entry. The Duke’s hands flailed behind, cupping anything, throwing, thrashing anything near as Lou forced himself, excruciatingly slow in him. His knees wobbled in air, body jerking cordially towards the hot smooches over his bare chest. David was breathing heavy, chest rising and darting back down.

whiitelight:  
Lou stayed still for a couple of seconds before beginning to slowly rock his hips in and out, gently picking up the pace and swirling them, letting out a low groan, “fuck, you’re s…so tight and hot,” Lou mumbled, basically blinded, eyes half closing as he began to thrust, fingers curling around David’s slender waist, hoping he would be accustom to the intrusion soon, hand traveling into David’s wirey pubic hair, gently stroking at his cock, thrusting, slow thrumming, his prostate. “God, David,” Lou’s voice was shaky now, hips becoming more rhythmic as he continued to gently kiss at David’s chest, his tiny rosebud nipples.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Pens and clips tumbled as papers and books flew off the desk thanks to David’s arms wildly flailing. Palm faced down onto the surface supporting his weight, best as he could to assuage the burning sensation of an open wound against a hard surface. He could feel the moisture stain his flesh red and the desk lose its pristine wooden hue. As Lou continued to slide himself inside David, ivory canines sank onto a clenched fist; fist as hard as his nipples taunted and loved upon. “Nnnn…!”

whiitelight:  
Lou felt his thighs be stained with ugly horizontal lines of red, torso straightening itself out as Lou hooked his arms under David’s legs, lifting him off the desk ever so slightly, inching forward in a vain attempt to dissuade the pain, slamming more directly into David now, angling his cock towards David’s spot, “ngh, God, daddy,” Lou cooed softly, slowly thrusting into David now, breath heavy and long, chest glistening, heels making screeching noises against the floor.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
As if Lou’s cock penetrating him deep wasn’t enough to imbue a rivulet within his system, seeping through every nook and cranny of his body, flooding his senses with thoughts of sex; Lou had to utter that sinful word. Sight summoned by the heavens, pupils rolling back to purse white on display between half opened lids; thoughts swiveling with unrighteous daydreams. Dragged helplessly further onto Lou’s cock, David felt an increase in pleasure as he now slightly dangled for Lou’s access. Palms tapped onto the desk, grabbing and supporting him from slipping out as much as he could, before his fist flew back between his teeth in an angsty bite. “Fuck Daddy Lou, fuck Daddy!” He begged, pitched in tone, gulping as lips grew dry. “Fuck Daddy’s tight ass.”


	7. Chapter 7

whiitelight:  
Daydream love making as they rocked the mahogany desk above the city, light streaming in and illuminating David’s glistening dewdrop skin, Lou panting heavily as he nodded, hips swiveling, so close. David was so close, each moment of ecstatic pleasure shared, every twitch of muscle noticed, Lou leaning over and kissing at David’s holy chest, making a little whining sound as he decides to pleasure him with some choice diction, “I’m going to come in daddy,” Lou mumbled, eyes half closing as his hips ram forward again and again, “fill daddy up.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Lou was literally all over him; expert fingers vexing his enlarged appendage, chest showered with steamy kisses that burned deeper past the skin, while his body rocked with each oppressively divine thrust, forcing Lou’s cock further into David’s orifice. “Yes!!” The Duke exclaimed, screaming as his hands flew over Lou’s forearm, ushering him to further press weight over his neck, arching his body to further be punished by the leather – clad Lou, knees knocking and rubbing along Lou’s sides as he thrusted against David’s ass. The definitive sensation of leather against the Duke’s flesh meriting a loud, sultry groan. “Oh darling, yes! Fill Daddy up.” Panting and breathing heavy in between hissing sounds, a trickle of white dripping from David’s head, “Cum in Daddy, Lou.”

whiitelight:  
Lou tightened his hold on the black leather snake, letting the leather slip around the buckle and constrict David’s airway, thrusting faster and servicing David with the other hand, movements becoming jerky and rigid as well as a choked groaning sound emanating from his throat before his breath stops and he stops thinking, every nerve illuminated pleasantly, slamming deep into the Duke, letting out a moan as he did just that and filled him up, letting go of the belt as fingers gnashed in the air, a couple of slow thrusts before collapsing onto his chest panting, still trying to hold David to him, standing up slowly and giving David a long look.  
“Now–” Lou started firmly, “back to bed,” Lou muttered, gently scooping David up under the arms, helping him to his feet, breath damp against his cheek.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David’s senses slowly began to wake as he took a swing at his morning vice. The soothing musk of coffee filling his nostrils and waking every nerve in his body. He noticed a slender length rise from behind Jocelyn, to which merited brows to crease and eyes to rudely fixate at it. Staring was wrong and David didn’t do much of it unless he was picking someone up or flirting casually but, to make of something and intently gaze on it felt utterly disrespectful.  
“You’ve uh….” What was it exactly? A tentacle? A tail? Is the drug still in effect? Did he need more sleep? Is this a cameo? But it looked so real and natural.

whiitelight:  
They were really whorish messes, Lou catching a glimpse of his cum dripping down the delicate insides of David’s thighs, feeling his own stomach heave delightfully at the sight of it, God, David was so beautiful and exposed like that, turned inside out by Lou and they could never be closer. Junkies for touch, for complete union. Lou nodded, chucking, “yeah, they’d need a lot of water to get the cum off us,” Lou murmured, wiping some off David’s abdomen and licking it off his fingers absentmindedly, hand hanging out of his mouth as he looked around, trying to support them, lets wobbly and uncomfortable, “wanna take a shower?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
For a moment without breath, David felt the high that brought his mind into whirl of nothingness and abundance, all at the same time. His body shuddered, dripping white stains as Lou jacked him off and declared his mark inside David. Nothing followed that he could remember but all the pleasurable emotions creeping all over his frame. He felt Nirvana, not Kurt, but the heightened feeling of bliss and heavy bush of weight over his chest.  
He blushed lightly, leaking from behind as Lou pulled out, a real slutty mess it was. On his feet, wobbly, he leaned onto Lou but did his share to not make both weakened queens tumble. “Someone needs t, t, to hose the fuck us down, Lou.” He giggled weakly, panting as he shook his head in disbelief of how amazing it simply was.

whiitelight:  
“I do not,” Lou grumbles, a bit weary now, sitting on the edge of the bath and letting hot water run into the basin, steam erupting in billowy clouds into the bathroom, “I don’t have the fucking sex drive that you do, baby,” Lou shook his head, it was true. Lou was decently horny, and even more horny on something to pick him up, but hardly as horny as David on a day to day basis. Lou really had all he needed, enjoyed being a whore, but knew he wouldn’t bring home as many men, women and inbetweeners as David, “plus,” Lou cocked his head, looking up at David, “you’re stunning.…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David laughed loudly; thinking about a dysfunctional, picture – perfect scene of the two of them and their many scandalous affairs without each one nagging about the other. In fact, he’d picture them both swapping contacts and friends and the literal meaning of the phrase uttered, have fun, dear. Eyes darted to Lou scooping him clean and licking his own fingers. He blushed and tried to shy away by nodding in response. “That was very, very hot.” Came an approving comment, marching them both towards the lavatory. “No wonder you get more men than me, you sexy beast.”

whiitelight:  
“Oh, vanity is not beauty,” Lou sighed, standing up carefully from the tub and moving to David. He touched the Duke’s shoulder, “you look like iron medals folded of tight breast,” Lou mused, tracing David’s chest, a little gasp leaving his chest, “poised, always poised and ready to strike, tendons screaming with contrived energy.” Lou traced the necklace hanging from David’s neck, “you look like those characters in those books, the men in Isherwood’s bars,” Lou said quietly, “You’re so many people, and every one of them is the conception of one kind of beauty or another.”  
Lou sighed, looking away, “you think?” It was unnerving to be the object of desire like that, he thought he did well with some people and that was good enough for him. It was uncomfortable for Lou to be in any body, he was just one of those people whose soul was a misprint on limbs and chest. He thought most of his appeal came from elsewhere, “I don’t know, as long as you like it…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“With make up on.” David responded, attention stolen by the now foggy mirror. Fingers cupped his jaw, peering for any stray growth. Ziggy was and will forever be David’s finest creation; the androgynous, genderless, god that elicited fantasies and fetishes from men and women of all ages. Ziggy that stunned the world of his rebellious beauty and wonder; Ziggy that brought men and women down their knees for a taste. “If you only knew how they gush over you, honey.” The Duke mused, smiling and caressing Lou’s face; if there was a word to best describe Lou, it was a total, hunk of babeness.

whiitelight:  
“No one’s really anything. You know that,” Lou sighed, looking at their naked bodies in the mirror. Who were they now? They could be anywhere, youths in a mirror. Staring back at themselves in a Mycenaean or Babylonian court, two young musicians hired to entertain a bangled prince. They were anything, something barely seen through several doorways, a glimpse of huddled feet through a window, “our identities, ourselves, it’s all bullshit. I just write stories different than you, you know that.”  
Lou checked the water, running his fingers through it and looking up at David. “I never asked you to do that. You know I wouldn’t.” Lou shook his head, but was genuinely moved, his soul swelling with comfort, sinking into David’s. “Here,” he grabbed David’s hand, stepping nymph like into the tub and sitting down across from him, watching him through foggy stain glass eyes, “let’s have this identity crisis in the tub…”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
And there he was again; him and his enticing words that would always ignite the well – kept shades of black. Him and his poetic literacy that drew him from the dangers he would succumb in loneliness; him in his magnetic charm that made the heartless persona fall deeply, madly, truly. Him.  
David blushed and bit his lip in an attempt to shy away from the better; palm rubbing the back of his nape as anxiety, or the very butterflies that seem to dwell in his stomach, grew. “I’m many, but never one.” A bittersweet thought; the always changing, always seeking to quench the need to belong somewhere, a poignant statement that not many understood.  
“You, however, is you.” The Duke unhooked the lock from the medicine cabinet, turning the mirror distant from their reflection. A small frown evident across David’s lips. “I can’t muster things like that anymore unless I’m stoned.” Came a rather sad chuckle. “But…” He closed the door, gazing before the reflection of two naked men that shared a bond so deep that if broken, David knew he’d surely die over it. “I’d stop singing for you, Lou. And singing is what I live for.”  
Never the genuine romantic as the Duke, Lou was the greatest exception.

whiitelight:  
David was Lou’s joy, and Lou wanted to be with him and sing to him quietly and gently touch his seraphim body for now and forever. It was simple like that, desire to touch, desire to hold, desire to dip into the stormy sea together and never be seen again. Lou chuckled, flipping on his side after being uncomfortably sardines, shoulder to shoulder, with David, now his chest brushing against David’s body, “you’re my darling,” Lou said quietly, smiling, shivering with amorous affection as David began washing his chest, letting out a soft sigh.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David shyly pouted at Lou moving away to adjust their position; there goes his lame ways of trying to be cute and yearn for attention. Not that Lou wasn’t paying attention, the Duke was just overwhelmed with joy, comfort and support that his heart would burst any second. He loved Lou more than lovers love love; it was just that. “And you are mine, Lou.” David stole a quick kiss onto Lou’s lips, grinning right after, cheeks rosy as eyes fell to the water surrounding their bodies. The loaf moved from his chest to his shoulders and neck, humming only to sing his cue on the well – received Satellite of Love.

whiitelight:  
Lou hums as well, face lighting up, “we did good, didn’t we?” Lou mumbled, turning his shoulders so his chest faced David, glistening like glazed pottery, snatching the soap from David’s hand to wash his chest, shallow and youthful, David was such a beautiful boy and Lou smiled softly as he washed him, looking away bashfully and squirming with delight, arm outstretched around David. Lou’s languid eyes moved back to his lover’s cut glass face, transfixed on his dreamy face.  
“God, we do go good together, don’t we, me and you?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
To David, Lou was more than anything lovers would call each other; Lou is the poet that makes his heart swell, the knot that keeps him grounded, the chain that yanks him back into earth from a whimsical voyage into space, the deacon of his life; the unmoving lighthouse that illuminates the stormy seas, guiding the lost sailor seeking home.  
David smiled and drew his fingers onto Lou’s cheek, a gentle caress and a sweet smile. “You are something, my love. You’re New York.” Dipping then his fingers onto the tub, he followed, sitting across Lou before he decided to squeeze himself beside Lou, splashing water off the tub as he did so. “We’re not even forty yet.” He mused, giggling at the joke. “And you’re still a babe, Lulu.” The Duke bit his lip shyly, taking a loaf as he began rubbing Lou’s chest.

whiitelight:  
“Thank you, Duke,” Lou muttered, slipping velvet demurely into the kiss, warmth moving from his chest toward David’s, fingers finding his damp hair, connecting the two permanently for a second, tethering them together emasculate, Lou’s fingers curling around the Duke’s wrist, holding him there.  
“Forever.” Lou nodded, “it’s a silly promise. We’re all die. But you’re enduring and heavy, David, I couldn’t imagine falling out of love with you.” Lou’s fingers gently lifted David’s wrist, “weighted, the real deal.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Their union was ethereal that David found himself lost by simply staring and listening to words that fluttered like colorful fairies pecking away at the back of his mind. “I hope not, my love. It’d be the death of me.” The last thing David would want would be losing Lou. He’d gladly give it all; fame, career, his car, properties and royalties, everything except the very soul that completed the yearning he has within him. “Heavens, you make me happy.” He added, withdrawing from their closeness to clean himself off. It was getting late and he knew Lou probably is exhausted from his day activities outside and with him.  
A silly promise that he’d do just about anything to keep. “That means I get the right side, right?” He joked, giggling happily.

whiitelight:  
“Well, that’s convenient,” Lou said quietly, washing himself off but watching David’s body, so elegant, masculine set shoulders and steel withering rib cage that held up delicate but vicious frame. Lou wanted to touch, to lie with quietly, to share silent moments of cool night lying naked and restless.  
He stood up, grabbing a towel and flopping it over his head, “‘course,” Lou smiled back, ruffling his hair and drying off his body, quickly changing the still running bath to cold water, which created a bubble of near ice cold liquid before dissipating into coolness around the tub, “that’s better for you,” Lou mumbled, sitting on the edge of the tub and still watching David, unashamed.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The cold was greatly appreciated; whether it was to drive him mad lusting for another body to fuck, make love to and cuddle or simply cool himself down to a state of tranquility. Tired from a series of highly fortunate events, David found the cool rather comforting. Not only does it help keep his pale complexion that really had become a requirement as the Thin White Duke, the cold is the Duke’s best friend.   
“Thank you.” David shyly smiled; despite how many of his dearest, close peers know his liking towards the cold, it always made him feel embarrassed. He began to slouch, submerging himself slow and brief. He’d have to postpone a cold bath for sleep calls. Rising from the waters, breath still and regulated. He finally exited the tub, grabbing a spare towel to cover himself from the hip down.


	8. Chapter 8

whiitelight:  
Lou didn’t bother with the towel, spottily drying himself off and leaving the bathroom for their expansive double bed. This apartment had originally belonged to David, but they spent many long, warm nights here that it became shared, little bits of each of them hanging around. Glasses, lighters, packs of cigarettes were littered everywhere, the ancient ruins of other secret trysts, the bed always made, neatly, just the way the duke liked it, comfortable, Lou carefully folding the covers down and slipping to the far side of the bed, near the wall, his damp skin enveloped like moths wings in the sheets, “come to bed, daddy,” Lou said quietly, pressing his face half into the pillow, “I miss you already.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Lou would be the only person that could rush David from spending hours in the bathroom without a single display of complaint. He followed almost right after Lou left, combing his hair in the process.  
The room was quaint; a four – corner, charming set with little tidbits of everything Lou Reed and David Bowie. There were lipsticks, make up, combs, boxes of empty and full of cigarettes, tissues in the bin, packs of white on the dresser table and bottles of champagne and canned drinks tipped on the corner. He picked up the stray pillow that had fallen off the bed and threw it over Lou’s hip with a merry chuckle. “Do you think we should get a dog?”  
They both adored dogs, more so Lou. It’d be fun to have a little one running around.  
He climbed onto the bed and reclined against the headboards; grabbed the glass ashtray and a box of GItanes. Offering Lou first before he took a stick for himself, he licked his lips and clamped the stick rightly in between. “What do you think, my baby?”

whiitelight:  
Lou watched bashfully as the glistening, pearlescent David came into the room, running a black comb through his slick auburn hair, biting his lip as he watched such an illustrious beautiful and intimate act. Lou smiled, a genuine, excited smile, body rocking as his love climbed onto the bed, nodding excitedly, “oh, tomorrow, definitely,” he nodded, “it’ll be nice to have another one around here to trash the place.” Lou joked.  
But it was too late, morning was creeping in like a vicious cat, claws scratching the hallway just outside the bedroom. Lou sat up, pulling out the drawer of his bedside table, producing a cherry wood box that smelled heavily of poppies, a cleanly packages syringe and a stolen, silver spoon, crusted with old charcoal.  
Lou looked at the Duke, tobacco haze filling his nose, “lighter?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
There’s always something grand about Lou on a bed; not in a sexual context but more of how it suits him. It suits him to be on David’s bed; to be in a place where he’s less tensed, where no other people are but themselves, to him smile which was rare to never. Selfishly, he’d just want Lou to be where he is; the need to know and ensure his safety, his happiness and everything he felt would be good for Lou. The Duke wanted nothing more than to be one who’d comply with Lou’s every whim, bend to his every command and be the reason of those charming, hidden smile of his.  
Snatched from the counter, David activated the pocket; turning that little switch to low so it doesn’t burst into a dancing whip of flame. “Not one of those chu.. Um.. chua… chup.. chupa… chupacabras (Chihuahua).” Lips pursed in shy disgust. “Not my type.”

whiitelight:  
“/Chihuahuas?/” Lou asked shrewdly, taking David’s offer and cooking over the open flame he provided, eyes lit up by bouncing yellow flame, large and thankful, a blasé to how they worked over his wares, picking up the syringe, and within what seemed like one fluid motion stuffing it into his arm with a half-sex groan, half-death groan, legs pulled up slightly and tendons snapping, body recoiling in ecstatic protest but only for a second, a hot flash before lucid, still water calm, the moon perfect and pure through Lou’s hair as he regains his ability to speak, discarding the syringe sloppily, voice tired, melodic.  
“I was thinking of a terrier,” Lou said, tracing his face with his forefinger, sinking back down into the bed and looking up at David, eyes glassy orbs of nothingness, tracing the imaginary, distinctive dog markings as if he was a terrier with his finger, “cunning little fucks,” Lou mumbled, fingers curling into David’s shirt to draw him closer and down into the bed, totally unaware of the smoke or whatever David’s doing, only seeing his seraphim face in the crackling black sunrise.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David leaned forward only to steal the emptied vial off the cot, careful of its devious prick, and threw it into the idle bin by the bathroom door. Descending back onto Lou’s side upon his request, David bit his lip in thought; it would be quite nice to have a little mutt running about. Both of them taking turns in walking their baby or fussing over what brand of dog food to buy. He wondered if Lou was one of those dog persons that fussed about what their tiny babies wore; chuckling as he gazed down at Lou, David propped on his elbow and laying on his side. “Just one then…?”  
Reclining against the headboard, the Duke lit himself a stick and took a lung – full drag; coughing and clearing his throat shortly after. “What would we name him, love?

whiitelight:  
Lou moved to perch himself in David’s lap, fingers resting on his slender thigh, absentmindedly and chastely stroking, enjoying the hard flesh under the thin sheet. David’s thighs were thick on his body, alabaster and round, bursting with memories of some physical vitality. Lou’s eyes are drifting, one half closed, his breath only a slight wheeze through tired lungs. “Mghh,” he replies, watching David take his golden lighter, some holy prop in a ceremony.  
Lou is burying himself into David’s lap like a desperate animal, absentmindedly trying to disappear deeper and deeper into the coveted place, knuckles rolling over knees, shoulders lifting, falling, a soft ‘hngnh,’ to acknowledge the duke’s question, “depends, doesn’t it? Something noble.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Spent from heavily pushing, pulling, tugging, spanking, kissing and fucking each other all over the place, it’d be a miracle of he actually got hard with them somewhat sobering up; Lou was tired and so was the Duke, happy but tired.  
David kept still and pleasured himself of the heavenly vice clipped between his index and middle while Lou found himself busy over David’s thighs. “We could do well with just one for now, yeah?” Paper rolled and stuffed now kissed the glass ashtray and discarded a clump of ashen ember before yet again, kissing the Duke a heavier, lung – deep drag. “Noble?” The Duke peered Lou, a tad surprised of his choice of category, “You mean like a … prince?”  
He couldn’t help but laugh; reminded of the image of a slender, intricately sexual, purple wearing, on – stage performer. “Come on, Lou.” The blonde cooed, ducking his arms under Lou’s shoulders, hauling him as best as he could either up on top of him or beside him; whichever would work considering he was quite drained himself.

whiitelight:  
Lou wasn’t tired, he was nodding, not only preoccupied with the small intimacy he had found with David, but sister morphine was in their bed as well, long legged, perched with her slender fingers in Lou’s hair, on his back, the clever minx. Lou broke a lazy smile after the joke was made, lips curling languidly, the curve slight and lazy, like everything might fall into a thousand year sleep, “hey, what about Little?” Lou finally asks, quietly, eyes rolling back into his head as The Duke hauls him into a worse position he can’t feel, slumped half on the Duke and half off, neck curved and hard against the headboard, stretched against the cool wood and Lou groans, “hngh, you know, like little Richard.” Lou smiles again, making a sound that half sounds like a snore, fingers trailing over The duke’s chest, slumping further down into the bed until his head is half on the pillow, trying to pull the Duke along with him.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David couldn’t help but smile and perhaps even laugh at how groggy Lou was becoming; it was cute and relaxing, to say the least. Lou had that very well – toned voice that drove him up the wall in the most pleasant of ways and him being such merited David to discard the half – smoked stick idly onto the crystalline ashtray. Undivided attention doted undivided attention as David’s fingers laced over Lou’s wandering appendage. Taking his palm to meet lips sweet with a brazen kiss, proud and loving, the Duke smiled and gazed down his beloved partner, adjusting to scoot closer. “I like that. I like that very much.”

whiitelight:  
With the Duke curled up around Lou he puts, chest rising with prickly, furry intimacy, cheeks nearly blushing pink with just small joy at the embrace. “Oh, good,” he mumbles, “‘cause I can't…think anymore.” Lou says slowly, nearly giving up halfway to fall asleep, head lolling back as a gentle blue grey blanket covers his eyes like the crepuscular sky. Lou’s eyes loll open to see the ocean, Turner waves and back cracking sea foam in David’s mismatched eyes, fields and fields of golden grain framing a slender pale face. David’s hair to Lou’s deft fingers feels like the wheat, smooth and reptilian, a lovely heavy weight in his palm and Lou sighs. “David,” Lou giggles, “you never told me you were a place,” Lou says, further exploring the false perception his mind had conjured up, elbows turning into white, quaint clay Mediterranean houses on olive branch cliffs.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“I am most certainly not, doll.” The Duke laughed heartily and grabbed Lou’s wrist before topping himself onto him, straddling his hips as he gazed down; eyes peered through the darkness that brought him more light than Andy Warhol’s hair, dreamily taking in every feature into heart and memory. Forehead pressed against Lou’s as locks blonde shyly infused themselves onto Lou’s darker shade like waves under the starry blanket bid the sandy shore goodnight. Eyes that he wouldn’t mind losing into an endless slumber of hypnotic thoughts of forever’s promise; an oubliette he would not mind to be forgotten in.  
“I’m an alligator,” David teased, purposely singing the line from Moonage Daydream, “I’m mama – papa comin’ for you. I’m the space invader.” The Duke grinned, lips tapping Lou’s in a playful manner, “I’ll be a rock n’ rollin’ bitch for you.” He chuckled yet again, pausing as he buried his cheek beside Lou’s, eyes shut tired, humming the rest to fade. 

whiitelight:  
Lou took a deep breath, eyes closing happily, head rolling back into the pillow, Adam’s apple bobbing through his serpentine neck as he curled back up into David, fingers finding his shirt, pulling at the cotton that hung lazily off of his thin frame. “Oh, God, you better be,” Lou smiled softly, feeling David’s cool cut-glass cheek against him, flipping over onto his side so they could sleep comfortably, blushing knees knocking, Lou looking away for a second and retracting his arms, face falling, grabbing a hold of his own skinny thigh and flipping over to the other side of the bed without a word, like something had snapped without David doing anything, but Lou’s eyes became darker, almost larger as he shoved his face into the pillow away from David. “G'night, alligator.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Tired, David remained still and allowed his eyes to burden the light and replace it with darkness. Cheek resting against the pillow, arm tugged under and his fingers idly kneading Lou’s scalp, lost among the soft, ebony curls that the Duke so loved. Drowsing, David found comfort in knowing there was no need for a litany on how he should wrap his arms from behind around Lou or why the Duke was not keen on making his partner turn to face him so it was more romantic to sleep as such; it always ticked him off whenever Angie or Eva would make him do things to be of the common norm, whereas Lou either understood or just as wasn’t into the sappy things. And for once it seems, he would be able to sleep in peace yet, again.  
The cold forming between bodies distance did David well to keep cool and sleep soundly till until morning would come.  
“Night, angel.”


	9. Chapter 9

whiitelight:  
Lou was very touchy, preferred to be held, but he knew the Duke had his limits but wouldn’t say anything to the contrary. Sometimes it bothered Lou, that David wouldn’t be open when he didn’t want to touch or kiss and just pandered. It made Lou feel undesirable always, so instead he tried to read David. He let the coldness fold over his back like confection, knowing David was enjoying the absent coolness folding over his smooth pale joints. Lou folded his arms around himself slightly, curling up, vulnerable on the side of the bed. It was nice this way, he could still hear the Duke breathing quietly, the little noise it made in his throat. Lou counted the measures off into time, knowing that if, at any point in the night, Lou would need David, he’d be there. But he never did, and come morning, Lou slips silently from the bed early.

dukeoftheblackstar  
It was in Lou’s company that David could sleep for a thousand years undisturbed; swept into the blanket of illusions of everything perfect, everything sweet, everything grand. Swept into a place where no one would find him and he would not mind because it was his tiny little planet; abundant of supplies, abundant of joy, abundant of love, abundant of Lou. It was by his side where the cold didn’t matter or the dirt seemed clean, his side where there were no screaming and crying fits of children but those that merely laughed, giggled and played with their toys and their costumes like the little people they are, his side where he could take off the mask and simply be no more than another muse, his side where he can be himself and not as the Duke. His side where his tiny satellite of love roamed free across the tranquil universe. But like all ventures good or bad, it must have an end; that in form of morning.  
David gently turned and held his arm forward to grab anything of the departing celestial; shirt, jacket, blanket, skin, whatever he could, anything. He wasn’t even exactly sure of what his fingers had latched on as his eyes were barely open. Spare hand covered his lips in fear of morning breath but spoke muffled beneath. “Don’t do that.” Voice rasped, breathless and dry.

whiitelight:  
“I don’t feel good.” Lou mutters, now stuck. He is stuck with all that was between them just festering like whatever is happening in his chest. It is hard to explain. But suddenly there is heaviness in everything, every finger is water logged, every moment is a year too long. Lou needs to get out because he feels something pressing down on his temples, and he lets out a shaky groan, toes curling against the floor painfully, stuck on the edge of the bed. He gathers himself, pawing the ground like a horse not yet out of the gate before bolting again, trying to shake away from David, pressing his head firmly in his hand. He closes his eyes, he’s barely Lou anymore, he’s sinking into himself and he wants to be left alone.  
“I feel sick.” Lou repeats, lifting his knees up further to his chest as he tries to make himself skinnier than the edge of the bed, hoping to slip between a crack in the floor.

dukeoftheblackstar  
David’s arm withdrew to his side only to prop hid body in a half – sitting stance; eyes forced open, drawing wrinkles on each corner as his face scrunched disgruntled. “Sick?”  
Moving way too quickly for someone who had recently gotten up, walls drew close as his blurred vision revealed a hammer that pounded ruthlessly onto both his temples. He shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up and slowly sat up with his hand pressed over muffled words. The Duke scooted closer, worried; spare hand flew to cup the other’s forehead, then the side of his neck to check if he had caught a flu or any infection of sort, but Lou had slipped away.  
Assuming this was not any ordinary fever or any form of fatigue, David followed right after. Grabbing his robes and firmly knotting it around his waist region; he took the same – colored pair and attempted to draft it over Lou’s shoulder, keeping his distance in fear of morning breath.  
“Lou, what’s wrong?” The Duke asked, softly at first before developing a much firmer and authoritative tone. “Love?”

whiitelight:  
Lou pulled the robe around him, it was welcome, he didn’t want to be naked, he wanted to trap what was left of him still inside his body firmly there. The fabric is rough against his skin and Lou nearly winces, his movements nearly snapping tendons with the effort it was taking him. What is wrong?  
“I don’t want to live anymore.” Lou says meekly, like he’s in pain. He knows David will recognize this, but he doesn’t care. It is pressing down against his eyes and he brings his knuckle up, pushing the fleshy grape orb into his cranium, pale skin rosary with blue bursting veins.  
“I want to vomit.” He doesn’t feel nauseous, really, just the nagging feeling at the back of his throat. He wants it gone, more than anything, he wants to feel some release. If he was alone, he’d already have shoved his fingers to the back of his throat, but now he just coughs pathetically, slender shaky hand across his mouth.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The Duke hauled the covers to sheathe himself from hip down; dragging it over his head and his shoulders like some Mary – Maiden of the Holy Order. If he could, be some Mary – Maiden of the Holy Order, he would; he’d do just about anything to cleanse Lou of whatever it was that plagued him. He would devour whatever plight of darkness that haunted him and swallow so with pride, just to see Lou smile; hell, he’d quit singing if it would make Lou feel better. Here and now, there was no question about it. David could always paint and go back to his advertising career and rot for all he cared; if it would put food on the table, bills in the bank, and his partner elated.  
David teetered to the edge of the bed and kept a bin close, setting it on the bed, a good distance in front of them. Hesitant at first, he placed his arm around Lou from behind, very gentle and still, ready to guide should Lou wish to lean onto him. “Don’t say that, love.” He frowned, leaning and peering to find Lou’s eyes. “I’m here, darling..” Came his attempt, quite unsure of what to say.

whiitelight:  
Lou melts slowly into the touch, leaning his head firmly on David’s spindly shoulders. He nearly passes out right there, fright clawing up his arms. What if David will leave him and he’ll be alone? All the trite bullshit fears, all at once, all hitting him right in the face and he groans. He turns his face into David’s shoulder as if to hide from something, nose getting crushed, eyes closing.  
“Sorry,” Lou mumbled, but it feels like there is glue in his mouth. It takes him too long to continue, “’m sorry, I’m not going to do anything.” He says plainly, and it’s true. He is far too tired to do anything about this pain. His ghost fingers move to David’s chest, running them below the robe, the flesh beautiful and marble and Lou meditates on it, breath nearly stopping before he lifts his head, trying to rouse himself.  
“Coffee,” Lou mumbles, finally, getting shakily up to his feet, robe falling open as he stumbles toward the half-kitchen, barely looking up, to tired to unfocus his eyes.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
And there he is, the Lou that gave the Duke reason to live and be merry; the Lou that gave the Duke reason to be strong and stand despite his fragile existence. The Lou the world does not often see is the Lou David holds dear the most; the Lou that David wants to spend his life with to take care of, to be taken care of by, to be loved and loved in return.  
Lou’s response was greatly treasured; he preferred the subtle gestures rather than him often acting like a tough guy and breaking down in some dark corner, away from eyes to prowl, pry and judge. Though brief, David hurried off the bed and grabbed the fabric, covering Lou’s nude form and pulling him to sit as they passed the small dinette. He cupped Lou’s face, making him meet eyes full of love and sheer adoration, leaning only to kiss his lips long and loving, forgiving and apologetic, needing and assuring. “That’s right, honey; you’re not.”  
He kept the robe tucked firm, walking swift to set the pot on for their morning beverage; eyes occasionally glancing at Lou in fear and worry that something may interest him that may hurt him. “You’re going to just sit there and let me do everything, okay darling?” He tried, David did; to keep a merry tone in hopes that it would rub off on his beloved partner.

whiitelight:  
“It would be better if you left some of that up to me.” Lou said flatly, almost barely moving his lips, resting his face in his hand. The stagnation was brutal and drying around him, leaving Death Valley cracks along his skin, brittle with age, like drying, curling paper that breaks at the touch.  
“Also can you stop with that shit?” Lou suddenly says, pointing at David’s cheerful face that is obviously irritating him, brows creasing, “I don’t like it. I know you’re scared.” Lou mumbles, he always valued honesty and despised false comfort. There would be no bigger sin for Lou than pretending everything is okay. Lou stands up, leaning over the table for a belated second, walking over to the pot of coffee, carefully picking it up and being sure to burn the pads of his fingers, letting out a soft hiss as he dug into the boiling glass, pouring both of them up a cup, shakily dumping too much milk so coffee white stains their counter, Lou muttering discontentedly, staring at the brown mess, nearly brought to tears.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The Duke had always kept his emotions even from closest friends in fear of rejection and making things far worse than they are deemed to be. He preferred to handle his own worries, trepidation of the unknown, ungodly forces of remorse, paranoia and even the vicious tentacles of love. David is scared, terrified even; he didn’t know what to do and what to say and that added to him thinking Lou might just march of to find someone better to handle his temperaments. Someone who knew how he felt growing up, how painful and terrifying it was; someone who either had literally been there or could grasp reality with or without the influence of drugs. Sure, David has his own set of downfalls in his early years but not as much as Lou had.  
“Stop it…” He whispered, watching Lou scorch himself and break before him.  
For someone who knew not what to do, David was starting to get frustrated at himself. “I said stop!” The Duke yelled, grabbing the porcelain milk container briskly and throwing it across the floor. It broke, naturally; glass shards flew across the living room and so painted the red drapes a flash white before merging into its crimson body.

whiitelight:  
For Lou to make such an embarrassing display of hopelessness meant he was sure David understood. That David was clear eyes even when they were foggy like frosted glass, that David knew and heard the electric buzzing that still ocellated meanly in Lou’s ears. And even if he couldn’t, he was trying to. And Lou was trying to peak back and see the nightmares and the fear, too. Maybe, Lou thought, they should skin themselves alive for each other, some kind of perverse strip tease. But Lou was always honest to the point of it being near-grotesque and David wasn’t. This was a change.  
“Shhh,” Lou says, grabbing David’s wrist, a modicum of scorn, intermittently turning him to kiss his forehead. Taking the stained porcelain cup that sat, unknowingly, on the counter, Lou lifts it to his lips, watching the clefts of porcelain over the dark carpet, suddenly noticing a small amount of dust accumulating. The lady would be here to clean it up. But it was a strange thing, the wall almost scared by the impact, a tiny and impossible smudge as a scar. Lou turns, sitting up on the kitchen table across from David, brows knitting together in an ebony haze before picking up the pack of cigarettes, putting one in his mouth, frowning again, handing the lighter for David and craning his neck, balancing his milky coffee on his knee.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“Look what you’ve made me do.” David frowned; realizing that he made a mess very much saddened him. Though easily shrugged off as it wasn’t actual dirt and Lou kissing him on the forehead pretty much took all the stress away at an instant; perks of being overly smitten, he supposes.  
His hand trembled lightly at his lack of control; firing the china and its contents onto the wall as if he had the balls to back it up. Truth be told, he couldn’t bring himself to smack Lou if needed, let alone really shove him down the floor; not that he would want to anyway but between him and Lou, David was nothing but mush. He hated that; hated being powerless and not knowing what to do.  
He took his cup and carried it with him, following after Lou as he sat the cup on the table. “Now I have to convince the poor cleaning lady that it isn’t cum.” The thing about David was he avoided his emotions altogether; he didn’t talk about how much he felt lonely or how scared he is, or how his heart ached seeing Lou crumble and he couldn’t do anything about it than pretend and hope for the best, Mr. Optimistic. He just couldn’t find the right words.

whiitelight:  
“Don’t blame me for that shit.” Lou might’ve been empathetic, but he was confrontational, the words coming hard and fast from Lou’s mouth, gesturing with his head over to the cracked porcelain, still holding his cigarette out with the intentions of The Duke to light it, almost princely in his demands.  
“I’ll tip her better.” Lou murmured, shaking his head, looking out over the bleeding white that was slipping into their carpet. In the sun, Lou knew it would curdle fast and fill the apartment with the noxious smell of souring milk. Best to get out of here fast, for the Duke’s sake, there was something tarnished about the apartment now, it had become a crypt.  
“Let’s go.” Lou murmured, downing half his coffee and getting to his feet, but it wasn’t that easy. Instead of a swift, fluid motion as legs unfurl, Lou felt every muscle, letting out a slight groan, eyes flicking to the ground like he was about to fall down and die.


	10. Chapter 10

dukeoftheblackstar:  
“And what, I’m just supposed to watch you sulk like a bitch? Come on Lou, you’re better than that, honey.” David felt out of line as words harsh fell through lips apologetically shaking as he spoke. He hated tensed mornings; the need to talk about emotions, addressing them properly as to avoid a series of abusive verbal exchange and possibly, knowing Lou, he might get hit again. He already has George Underwood to thank for his good eye, impaling the other isn’t in his bucket list.  
In reality, he was selfishly afraid of not knowing what to do or what to say; he often had kept his personal affairs very personal that he doesn’t even know how else to bring up talks such as this without busting a chuckle because it was his way to cope. It was his way to say and show that he was okay even if he wasn’t; he just didn’t know how to open doors as much as he didn’t know what to do with doors open for him.  
David nearly toppled everything on the desk as he rushed to grab Lou; albeit, a little too late, he was still able to grab hold of him somehow. “Lou…?” Came his worried tone, shaking him lightly. “Honey…? Lou talk to me…”

whiitelight:  
The Duke was right in his trepidation, Lou not even looking at David as he said those words, he didn’t have to, his eyes quickly swarmed mad with darkness, like a thousand bees clouded his vision. He sat there, prickling with discontent, hating to be disrespected, afraid that the duke’s thinly veiled words exposed how he really felt, and it cut Lou, deeply. Lou must’ve been a burden, but right now, he was angry at the Duke for not loving him and staying around. Lou slipped off his chair quickly, pawing around to David like a cat, stepping over the chair to straddling him, chest to chest, one hand shooting down to grab David’s balls through his pants and squeeze without relent, twisting his hand slightly, leaning over to his ear, “if you ever talk to me like that again,” Lou murmurs without a hint of flirtation, mean teeth clicking in his jaw, “you will be coming blood for the rest of your life.”  
Lou quickly slips from David’s lap, stewing with distrust and fright, making his way quickly to the door, turning his head to see the Duke. He is almost transformed, his movements suddenly hard, like he just might strike or flee at any moment, animal fear curling in his chest. “What?” Lou asks punishingly, crudely, his words only vindictive but disgusting to even himself, “I’m just going to blow my brains out.” Lou says flatly, pulling his jacket over his shoulders and fleeing quickly.

dukeoftheblackstar  
David cried airless and winced at Lou’s definitive manner of inflicting pain, dominance and control; chin fell weakly onto Lou’s shoulder as he began grunting and breathing as if induced in birthing labor pains. Nails dug heavy onto his fleshy palm as his left curled into a fist and pounded on the table, spare hand desperately shoving Lou off by the hip. It was excruciatingly painful that he couldn’t even feel that his eyes were on the verge of tears; considering Lou was far more stronger and leaner in built, the Duke isn’t much of a tough candy.  
His hand shot between his thighs, cupping his brutalized region, careful to stress more of how aching it already had become. He remained seated, slowly turning to face the door, still shaken by the pain that he had to constantly lick and bite his lower lip to not look like a fish gaping out of water. He couldn’t look at Lou, wouldn’t, didn’t want to; it was becoming difficult to identify which was more painful, being grabbed firm by the balls or Lou being a real dick right now.  
“C…Coward!” The Duke finally mustered; tone cracked in pitch as any sudden jolt of movement added emphasis between his thighs.  
Teeth clenched as he rose to his feet, walking awkward with knees spread apart, careful of his injured anatomy. “Fucking coward is what you are, Lou!” The Duke yelled from where he stood, uncaring if the world heard or not. “Come back here! All you do is run, you fuckin’ prick! Yeah, right? You mean blow your brains out by chocking on a big, fat, cock, you wuss!” His tone shook, he hated every bit of venom he spat, but he there he was again, leaving him like he always does.

whiitelight:  
A pause and the still air bristles and goosebumps rise in the plater, Lou taking his time to turn around and give the Duke a long look, one eye drooping past the other, eyelid falling, like the whole thing might slip down his face. The corners of his lips twitch.  
“The fuck did I just say to you?” Lou asks, taking a step forward. It’s clear that in a very close parallel universe, David is already castrated and his balls are being used as tea bags. But not this one, Lou sounds like he is about to cry, “you fucking vicious cunt, you’re finally being honest. You sound like my dad, nothing but dirt.”  
Lou frowns, closing his eyes as to not let whatever might slip out of his tear ducts–resentment, grotesque vulnerability, hatred–all of it, to stay. He opens his mouth again, “daddy.” He frowns, lifting his wrist to his eye, pressing and letting the faint stars explode into the blackness. He is always so close to really doing it, and really, it would be better if he did. But he knows these thoughts have always swam thick in his head.  
Lou is out the door in no time, good and proper now, closing it firmly behind him to keep himself out, keeping himself from beating the Duke half to death. Lou had to destroy somebody, he couldn’t help himself. But the city, the city was his friend, Lou pounding in the buttons of the elevator like a child, trying to get down, to pavement, to people’s averted eyes, to the traffic and the buzz hum clacking, the black lines, the lights, the orange light of subterranean spaces and the alternate worlds of bums. He knows a thousand places to go.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The insults and abrasion to his pride, vanity and his entirety he can handle, the problem was; being compared to someone Lou abhorred with great passion scarred him so deeply that all he could do was lower his head in shame. As feared, the reason why he had always avoided confrontation and handled things with a lighter hear is the fact that he would always feel accountable for making worse of the situation; he avoided conflicts and confrontations every chance he got and would simply just walk away. This, however, is not a matter of discourse where he can or would want to just walk away.  
He took it all in; fighting, gnawing on his bottom lip, resisting the urge to cry and grab the mugs and throw it at Lou. What stopped him was the thought of Lou possibly being right on the money; maybe he was being a vicious, lying cunt who’s more the coward by hiding everything. Maybe he was the real wuss between them for lacking the ability to feel or express; such irony for an artist.  
Managing to claw at the door and pry it open, David peered out and found Lou hammering away on the elevator keys. Daddy, he thought; did he even deserve that? Did he even feel like one who’d care for Lou after all this shindig? It was, despite the situation, quite saddening to hear being called Daddy in an unfortunate term.  
He clung onto the door as his balls felt raw from the twist. “I have been bloody honest to you, god damn it. I love you, otherwise I would’ve left your sorry ass to rot!” Yelled the Duke, tone softening at the very end, “Don’t leave like this, baby…Please? Come to Daddy…?”

whiitelight:  
Lou turned his head, entire body nearly bursting like a water balloon with sudden anger, meeting David’s eyes. Lou’s were spinning billiard balls in his skull, hard, blank, nearly animal in nature, the blank large eyes of some carnivorous beast, a domesticated dog finally snapped on rabies or fear. His fingers seemed to twitch in the air with it, at his sides, like they might’ve been talking, a briny, hellish mixture of panic. Across his brow came violent intentions, protruding masculine parts becoming rigid, chest turning and full with the milk of disdain.  
“You’re going to wish I left.” Lou adds, making his way down the hallway, but it barely looks like he’s moving his feet, like he’s some sort of spirit now transported, grabbing the handle of the door firmly with two hands and yanking forward, the metal Bob and the duke’s thin body hardly giving enough resistance to stop him.  
“Fuck you,” Lou adds, hearing the pop of bone and the dull slam of fingers in the door, appendages now creased, distended with displaced blood, the almost deafening crack of bone, Lou letting go of the door, letting it hang whimpering and used on its hinges, the elevator finally opening.  
Deliverance. It had all died this morning, the apartment, as far as Lou was concerned was a dusty fielded now, just needing to be abandoned and forgotten about. The Duke had not been a lover, maybe just a new dad to look back in anger at, someone just there to torture Lou. He slipped silently into the elevator for the street.


	11. Chapter 11

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David would not indulge Lou in any heated exchange that would either degrade him into a foul – mouthed lowlife or a petty, thin man desperately trying to swing a punch at someone who would easily churn him into melted butter. Frankly, he wouldn’t indulge Lou in anything that really drive him to leave knowing Lou would most likely be the first to walk off and never come back. David may be proud but he knew when to tuck his tail between his legs and beg. Yes, beg; he would get on his knees without question to keep Lou if he feels it’s worth fighting for. Is it still?  
The Duke was ready to throw himself at Lou be it on bended knees or his lips kissing the very tip of his boot. He loved Lou greatly and though he would not pretty much enjoy succumbing to a clingy, desperate, martyr, he’d gladly go through that phase to keep Lou. But then again, this would be just a one-time thing.  
The corridor was soon filled with a deafening shriek that escaped the Duke’s lips. Eyes bloodshot at the sight of his fingers clamped shut between the door; the impact was so sudden and so intense that David swore that he had heard his bones crack and half his fingers fell and bounced off the ground. It was as if the pain in his balls had suddenly healed and shifted to the now red, swollen appendages.  
Desperately kicking the door to retrieve his palms, shoving them between his thighs as if it would help, David had fallen to the ground on his knees; crying, rocking himself off the pain, weeping with tears streaming down his face and pain almost electrocuting his body. He hissed, groaned and sobbed; clutching his wrist careful and allowing his fingers to twitch in pain and hang numb as he began yelling for help.

whiitelight:  
Lou didn’t remember what else happened. Didn’t want to. It was almost as if this was all he could say, before the very idea deprived him of nights and nights of sleep. But here David was. He seemed okay, which was a silly conclusion. The way David shrieked Lou was expecting him to be bound to a bed with tubes everywhere, maybe even dead. So just to see him upright was shocking, and answers the door with the fragile appendage that came to take the brunt of the abuse even more. Lou stared down at those skilled Porcelain hands and nearly vomited, craning his neck slightly to look around the door.  
“…can I,” Lou begins softly, “I just want my stuff.” He ends more confidently. Of course, this wasn’t the first time he had seen David. But he had ‘forgotten’ about those other times as well. Everyday he wanted to tell daddy about this or that, ask him one question or the other, make sure daddy was okay and taking care of himself and upright. He wanted to see his hay colored hair and his brilliant eyes, his arched and intense brow, the wild look and the profound stare. Maybe his Duke wasn’t this Duke at all. Maybe he had killed him and the sullen white door with the tar around the handle from Lou’s smack was really another door in another building. Maybe he had the wrong address. He waited for a response.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Each of the Duke’s fingers was heavily wrapped with white bandages that were rolled twice as much to, at least, enable them to move and grab. He had requested to be functional both as a human being and as a musician. He had trashed the hospital room several times over reasons that were so trivial that it didn’t help him recuperate well. He’d break things just because he couldn’t properly hold onto his morning coffee mug or that he couldn’t even turn the damned faucets on, let alone write or strum the guitar without wincing in pain.  
The harsh events that transpired in the corridor clouded the Duke’s mind that it rekindled the very pain of his healing fingers; that, and perhaps the excruciating stabs at his heart and soul. To see Lou looking so well without him was a huge blow to his ego and the mere fact that he came in to take his belongings clearly meant he was far better off on his own; probably with some guy he fucked senseless and coaxed to take him in. Surely, that’s the case right? He thought; brows furrowed and eyes turned away as he stepped back in silence, allowing him to enter.  
Maybe he found someone better; someone who wouldn’t fuck up as much I do when he finally opens up. Someone who wouldn’t lose his temper over something and steal the limelight when his partner’s really down; partner. His partner.  
He stood by the door and allowed him to enter, not wanting Lou to look at his pitiful state. Bandaged fingers clutched onto the door, wincing and hissing as he had blindly pressed harder than suggested. “I….” He paused, finally turning but remained by the door as if he was the guest and this was Lou’s domain. “I d… I didn’t know you wanted… them packed. “

whiitelight:  
Lou looking good on his own was not possible, but not being dead was a miracle. He was headed that way, and fast, blood sticky and black in his veins, bubbling tar fields for lungs, black tar spilling from his eyes, leaving clumps of burnt rubber in his eyelashes, lip cracked and betraying more slick ancient tar, shoulder twitching and twitching and twitching, tendon shivering, tar burning hot to keep Lou alive, too cold to light a fire, burning dinosaur bones. Lou gives David a long, disapproving look, the accumulation of all the looks he would’ve given David if he had been there to watch his fits, his whims, his fancies, a look of borderline disdain, but cracking with pearlescent, opal love, some semi precious stone that had formed under the extreme conditions.  
“I just want the books.”  
Lou says flatly. He’d run back into a burning building for a couple of old paper backs, and this was practically what he was doing, pushing past David into the apartment, expecting to find things just the way he left them. Maybe more chaos, but the same furniture, the same mugs, the same distance between pillows, but this looked like another apartment in the same building, everything not his own, Lou taking a moment to take it in, swallowing thickly. It must’ve been hard to do things right with one hand, Lou thought, subconsciously removing himself from the crime, taking a pillow from the couch and moving it slightly, making it right, before he looks around realizing something is wrong.  
“You… alone?” Lou inquires, looking around the corner at the Duke, “you better have not touched my shit, man.”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
No matter how hard David tried to shift his gaze elsewhere, they were drawn to Lou as if they were not his own. He studied his figure and took in every ounce of Lou’s presence as if they had yearned to cast themselves only to him; eyes desperately pleading to be met with mutual apologies and stares morose and forgiving. Knots twisted over the Duke’s chest; tight and unforgiving at what Lou had become or rather, what Lou had not became. He wasn’t exactly in shambles but judging by how his arm screamed ‘save me before I come off’; Lou is yet again in a very alarming pace.  
“They’re in the guest room.” Voice barely audible, David closed the door and immediately headed towards the kitchenette, hiding behind the barricade of counters. He didn’t really need to personally escort Lou to the guestroom as it was a few steps adjacent the couch; was there a need to find himself clinging to the hinges so Lou can finally get the job done and emasculate him by literally breaking his fingers again until they fall off?  
David couldn’t help but hiss in pain as he fidgeted over properly picking up a glass and setting it onto the counter. The glass shimmied itself off of David’s flimsy grasp and continued to ring against other glasses until it finally fell crashing onto the floor. “Bloody fuck.” The Duke cursed under his breath and brought his excruciatingly pained and twitching fingers to try yet again; glasses bumping at each other as he desperately attempted to pick one up. “I haven’t touched yo—.”  
“Honey, you ok— Oh, hello.” In came lean, muscular man with clean features and eyes similar to Lou’s. He wore no leather but simple turtlenecks and beige office pants like the Duke’s; voice tender and affectionate as the figure turned to swiftly slide behind David, hold him by the hips with his chest pressed onto the Duke’s back. The man kissed David’s neck by a miss; the Duke purposely turning to avoid being smooched in front of company. “I didn’t know we were having guests, honey.” He continued to dote kisses along David’s shoulder as if to taunt Lou; oh he knew Lou, he definitely knew Lou.

whiitelight:  
This was a little baby’s game, and Lou knew it. Listening to the glass falling is what really got Lou. How many glasses had the Duke dropped because of him? Four? Maybe five? Maybe the whole cupboard. Maybe bits of ceramic and shards of bright prismatic glass covered the whole floor like a kaleidoscope. He remembered David’s fingers, his long slender hand, elegant and beautiful, just another piece of him that was fine alabaster and strong as a bull. But no more, folded like origami into a door. Lou quickly moved silently into the bedroom after watching his new boyfriend’s display wordlessly, ducking his head behind the door so he didn’t vomit in sight, hanging his head slightly. It was his fault. The idea ripped at the tendons in his neck and the sides of his eyes. He had been the one to do this to the Duke.  
He quickly gathered his small duffle back, pulling the old books out with a sigh, tucking them under his arm, every intention of being buried with them, and he was obviously preparing for death. The breakup had only accelerated the rot in his brain that was long in coming, but completely welcome when it did, the cool feeling of forgetfulness. Lou’s brows furrowed, looking around, barely able to remember what just happened, walking back into the room confidently.  
“tha–” before noticing what he had left, this childish game, looking at his new boyfriend. If only Lou had forgotten what he had done. Lou closed his mouth again, looking slightly confused, scratching at his tattered arm and getting dirty vermillion under chipping black nails, scurrying for the door like a startled alley cat, seething with nausea under leather.


	12. Chapter 12

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Pleasantries were more of cussing and calling each other names with lips crashing against cheeks and fellow lips, tongue at times depending on the depth of cordial relations, and palms wandering for appropriately inappropriate touching to commence. Slut, whore, wanker, darling, babe, sweetheart, love – echoed loud despite the rumbling bass of sinful music, roaring laughter, more slut and kink shaming, glass tinkering against tables and faces made as the bitter taste of alcohol and lemon peel suckled downed through throats that welcomed food, beverage and other fluidic mess.  
David, for a change, sat quietly within the presence of Mick and Keith; Mick eyeing Keith dangerously as he helped himself with a cig in hand, a glass of champagne in the other. Leg propped over Keith’s knee, as if he owned him and would probably maul the next woman who’d even dare step an inch closer; sitting with the free knee wide open as if, in contrast, calling out to whoever would be interested to suck him dry. “Well, yow’re awfully quiet, darling. Dun’t tell me Danny’s gott’n you whipped. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  
Mick was honestly concerned; David’s fingers were neither sprained, sore, burned nor cut, they were broken. Broken fingers for musicians are a big thing, a real big thing; one can only sing the same number of songs until one’s fifteen – minutes – of – fame spirals down. David couldn’t even properly hold a cigarette that Mick had to clip one between his index and middle and the other clipped between the same that held Mick’s champagne.  
The Duke eagerly declined the accusation and carried on a discussion on how Danny’s such a good boy; that he in fact, was getting David’s purse left in the car.

whiitelight:  
Keith could feel the warm crook of Mick’s knees wrapped around his own, prominent lids like a broken doll’s, hardly able to keep themselves up around shiny, marble brown eyes, prominent cheek bones framed with scraggly black hair, falling around his shoulders elegantly, one earring perpetually tangled as he nearly nodded off right there. Keith didn’t give a shit who David was dating, who broke his fingers (his dealer,) what Mick’s so expert opinion was, head lolling to one side to watch his friend’s chestnut hair shiver as it was thrown away from a beautiful and lascivious face. Mick was what Keith would call a ‘fixture’ in his life. The come-on eyes, the pornstar lips and the all-too-catty British school boy jabs that ran like water were something Keith had been subjected to for much, much longer than the rest of them, David included.  
“You know how it is for /them/,” Keith muttered, dryly, having to take offense at something that Mick was doing before he was carried out on a stretcher, eyes lolling back like driftwood on an ocean, Keith’s tongue mean and sloppy, “/they/ get rougher when shagging,” his words muddled together blindly, just waiting for Mick to chastise him for saying it– “'em poofters.” It was just one of those dumb things one says and doesn’t really mean to family, Keith barely rousing himself enough to defend from whatever would come back at him, before another figure catcher his eye.  
Maybe it wasn’t the dealer, Keith’s eyes moving back to Keith before following the disembodied white head in the darkness, pace quick and sharp, eyes dark–it was Lou, and Lou was headed directly their way, and it didn’t look like it was just for some of the stuff Keith had, sitting up slightly, losing all guise of disinterest. Sure enough, Lou was standing right over the Duke in no time, not having said anything quite yet.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Mick wouldn’t have pretty much stretched a mile by doting on David’s need to smoke if he wasn’t fucking him on the side. He adored David’s witty humor and intelligence but between him and Keith in the same four – cornered wall, it would always be Keith; Keith and his cocaine – fueled, inebriated, heightened state of mess, minutes away from grabbing David and stuffing his nostrils with cocaine while reprimanding him on how to better deal with lovers and love affairs gone wrong. A part of him wished Keith just would, so he could get David to finally spill the beans, get it over with and coax him in getting his new boyfriend in the game.  
“How th’ fuck would you break your fingas by rubbin’ a cock?” Mick rolled his eyes; head shaking with auburn locks dancing coy over his shoulders. “Forgive him, darling; you know how he is.” He consoles the quiet David, bringing his share of mint between David’s lips for a heavy drag. Mick glared at Keith; dark but rather lustful at the same time. “Stoned only from the hip up.” Lips part to chuckle as Mick’s tongue peered with menace in his eyes. “Prove me wrong, you dirty fucka.” Muses Mick, tugging his leg over Keith’s knee, reaching for what lay in between.  
David was too preoccupied hooking his injured fingers over the mug which contained champagne that he had given up ranting about how wrong it was to drink champagne from a coffee mug. He had already gotten through an unpleasant exchange of words between Iggy but after being fully convinced that Iggy would not be babysitting him when Debbie’s out whore dancing and Lou looking like he’d smack him for well… being Iggy “The Idiot” Pop, he’d rather steer clear.

whiitelight:  
Keith gave Mick a bitter look, head lolling to the side, exacting obsidian eyes cut to perfect diamonds, looking like his top lip would peel back and he’d suddenly leap onto mick and devour him whole one way or another. But his junkie limbs would never, neck as weak as a new born babies, and with an uncanny, disconcerted grumble, leaning the sticky side of his face on Mick’s shoulder, round cheek bones getting the boney imprint of sequins. Another grumble arose as about several, fluid minutes in, Keith is pulling Mick’s hand of his crotch with a grumbling laugh, “oh, fuck off,” is grumbled through slightly parted lips, “just put your hand don’t on the road, or something, man I don’t care…” Stretched syllables chariots into the abyss, deaf-mute dumb junky state.  
Speaking of deaf mute junkies, Lou is fast approaching, his fingers reaching out to David’s shoulder, gently brushing it, tapping it but with long, belated touches, like he was remembering a different touch, not among enemies.  
“David?” His voice cracked and wavered in the wind, eyes sitting on pools of black mascara and insomnia, stomach twitching with nausea over the massive holes that had been growing in his liver and heart, “David, come on. I have something to tell you.” He says, eyeing the other two suspiciously, now was no time for rock n roll, no time for party, and Lou grabs David’s shoulder firmly before quickly letting go, disappearing with a fast gate towards the back of the club, leather jacket screeching in protest, eyes drooping low, face a melancholy pool of determination as he is (hopefully) leading David to a secluded spot just within sight.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Tousled crowns mingled as Mick pressed his forehead against Keith’s; eyes locked demanding of affection and perhaps more of that Keith Richards aggression. To be toppled and punished for his wandering hand; thrown off the cushions and be deafened by the sound of glass crashing onto the unforgiving floor, expensive champagne staining his more expensive heels. Fingers wrapped mercilessly around his slender neck as his body would shudder under Keith’s touch; grumbling, cursing, smacking, slapping, choking and fucking while his precious guitar sat bare and unwanted.  
Eyes dark and set on the other, palm snaking to grab Keith by the back of his neck as if in any second, he would lunge and mount the beast for all to see that he, Mick Jagger, owns the infamous Keith Richards. But of course, he would not… For now.  
The Duke merely shook his head amused; this was to be expected of this gorgeous, slutty queen. He reclined in his seat, hoping to relax and suffer not having to drink or smoke as Mick had turned his undivided attention to his prey.  
Startled, David hesitantly turned to address the highly familiar voice; fear etched in his eyes as he began scooting off the chair. Palms, at an instant, felt the cushiony edge of the couch in an attempt to rise, but elicited a whimper as the pressure made him weak; more so the hand that gripped him by the shoulder.  
He followed, trailing behind Lou with his bandaged hands close to his chest, comforting each other with fingers carefully laced. He said nothing.

whiitelight:  
A moment of simply animal communication like the tremendous howl of baboons resounding through the forest, Keith stares down Mick, suddenly roused from his slumber. Keith looks almost innocent, glassy eyes round, lips slightly parted, but mean black hair and tight cheekbones quickly dispelling that myth. They sway a little in their embrace with pure energy, two bucks locking horns for the same prey: each other. They’ve known each other only the few dripping seconds, each breath exchanged through lips binding staples between them, and once they are done talking in primordial tongues they break away into their primitive dance, tendons exploding like great wild cat’s, Keith’s talons falling upon Mick’s chest, the front of his neck, thumb pressing into jugular, pushing Mick straight off the couch with one thrust, a low growl starting in Keith’s throat, “don’t touch me, you sick fuck,” Keith barks, barely words at all, simply a request for the opposite, a plea to get home now to the safety of their own bed where Keith won’t blush at the thought of being seen with another man. It still happens. He knows it’s silly, and a crinkle of exasperated, embarrassed laughter from Keith’s lips as he descends after Mick onto the stained fancy carpet.  
And as soon as they stop walking, Lou’s eyes are somehow so large they are burrowing their way out of his head, and they’re swelling like a balloon with guilt and Lou is also brimming with guilt behind panicked eyes and he thickly swallows, giving David a long look, watching him in his stillness and fright, Lou knowing he’s such a monster. Not a monster in the way people in books are monsters, in the way an asshole can really destroy your life, a real motherfucker of a person to do the worst (and unforgivable) to the Duke. And he’s on his knees like he has never been in his life, like he’s just seen the face of God, and he’s prostrating himself before David, looking up at him submissively, reaching gently for the broken hand with a careful grasp and bringing the torn knuckles to his lips, kissing the slender bone of power, like the pope, Lou an obedient dog and shifting the power quickly.  
“I’m sorry, daddy,” he apologizes meekly, not expecting to be forgiven, “I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m twisted, but ’m sorry.”


	13. Chapter 13

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Two top dogs left to fend for themselves, wrestling but never nude on the carpet; laughing and biting at each other with words, Mick in dismay to nurse the raging thrill that no man or woman could ever bring his writhe body than the great Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones.  
David’s heart raced and he could feel the trickle of nervous sweat along the length of his spine. Fingers twitched as if expecting more from the very being that brought them in shambles; broken, bloodied, bruised and swollen. Trepidation within his physical frame but anger brewed within his soul. Days did the Duke suffer of not being able to enjoy the cold touch of chilled wine on a fine glass, to properly tend to his fiery golden crown without having anyone tamper with its immaculate stature, to prick his dainty pads against his multitude of pet cacti in the balcony. To caress Danny and pretend, at the very least, that those fine features of his wee Lou’s unruly being.  
Lou on his knees with bandaged digits held with great care, trembling as if at any minute, Lou would pull a devious prank and crush them between palms stronger. He’d wince and make a face in pain; mind wanting to step back but his body frozen. He listened and though apologies were thrown at him like bucks at a hooker, it would not be easy or would it be given so freely. What the Duke is now is nothing more than a pretty face who can sing; a pretty face who can’t even muster the proper keys on a piano, let alone strum the glorious strings of his guitar without staining the fine chord with pain. He wanted to yell, scream and slap him; push and shove and probably kick Lou for the days of being an unproductive, washed – up bag of nothing. “Lou, I ….”

***  
“What the fuck are you doing?!”  
Danny came rushing from the far side of where the couple stood, Lou on his knees. “What the fuck’s wrong with you, asshole?!” Berated David’s new king, grabbing Lou by the scruff of his leather jacket, pulling him to rise and shaking him viciously. Eyes glared and ready to strike but instead, shoved Lou back onto the ground, kept with one hand; spare raised into a ball of anxious fist.  
“Danny, do— Argh….!” As David grabbed Danny by the arm, he could feel his bones twist and break that he was quite sure they all had fallen off. He backed away, shoving his injured hands between his thighs, knees bucked as his face painted pain beyond compare. He bit his lip hard as to not make a scene and leaned onto the adjacent wall, hissing, whimpering and tearing in pain; they were not sprained, they were broken, of course.

whiitelight:  
Lou would’ve taken the abuse he knew he deserved, would’ve collapsed into himself like origami for days, would’ve crumpled into his own worthless remains. No good person does what Lou did– and no person should ever be forgiven. It may not even be what Lou is searching for as he kisses David’s knuckles, as his chapped lips press to those bruised and broken digits, as he pathetically prostrates himself, spine curved, hip digging into the floor like he belonged there, in fact forgiveness was not what he was searching for at all. He wished to heal, that from his slender lips he may be able to give back to the Duke the power he had taken from him, to give him all the power, to let him be the bastard with mean teeth again, to let the Duke flay him with his tongue or fist until Lou was saintly ribbons of flesh, all for the duke’s own end– this was no fantasy of martyrdom, this was a fantasy of justice. He should’ve been destroyed.  
Lou was heaved to his feet like a dog and his face suddenly changed, scrambling up to his feet like a dog, a quick flick of the head and he’s already slipped skillfully from Danny’s grasp, pulling him away from the Duke with a flick of the wrist by some piece of fabric and towards him. “You should mind your own fucking business,” Lou whispers lowly, chastising Danny like a kid and watching the Duke spiral off with large eyes, breathing heavily, giving Danny another look. Lou’s pale hand passes into his breast pocket, where there surely hides a weapon, eyes dark and low and dangerous, a flirtatious flick of the head as he looks at the Duke cowering in pain, Lou’s gaze annoyed at the very least, “can’t you take care of ‘er?” He gawks, “a man can’t take care of what’s his?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
David watched the world crumble before him; ripped jeans kissed the undeserving floor and his Lou, his Lou hoisted, crumpled and tossed like a petty draft. Spat on berated like some trashy teen punk who knew and did nothing than rile trouble and cower and he, Danny, the uptown scholar of some classy school big enough to do himself proud. At the center of it all was David; no more than the fragile flower who couldn’t keep the bees away but did damn well do good swatting butterflies.  
“Can it, bitch.” Unsure whether it was directed to Lou or David, Danny stalked his partner; towering as his rough palms forced themselves onto the Duke’s cheeks, lips hungrily seeking to still David’s quivering lips. He pushed David against the wall with arms lean before being dismissed; dismissed in such a fashion that the Duke, in his rare prissy manner, marched off offended with a disgruntled and disgusted face.  
“You had your chance, asshole.” Danny sneered, dabbing his chest with his index finger accusingly; glaring as if the Duke was more of his property. Tone hushed a notch grudgingly. “If you weren’t such a melodramatic cunt then maybe I wouldn’t have to live with this crippled, washed up sac of wad.”

whiitelight:  
Despite Danny’s Yale pressed polo shirts he was still something even more primordial than Lou. Behind neatly combed hair was a thick skull and brain full of marrow, eyes rolling and waiting for movement in the dark, a pit growing just below his sternum filled with testosterone and stupidity, runoff water of what seeped from his brain. Lou had no time for it, and it showed on his face, jaw slightly protruding, nose slightly upturned, no time, no inkling of a second for Danny’s shit, a look of bored disdain plastered across every fiber.  
“Probably.” Lou agreed, lowly, giving Danny a long look before following after the Duke with a dog like gate, dutifully coming up behind his heels.  
“You queens certainly are something. It’s like Tennessee Williams wrote this shit.” Lou rolls his eyes, talking mostly to himself, Danny suddenly the image of Stanley, a less than perfect Marlon Brando knock off. He finally stops, tapping and grabbing at the fabric on the back of David’s shirt, trying to get him to stop fleeing, to stop preening and running like a cock.  
“C'mere,” Lou ordered, “can’t we talk like adults?”

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Basking in the moment of being under the Duke’s light, Danny shrugged and carried on to the bar; it wasn’t because he was offended or was enthused by the presence of unlimited alcoholic beverages, men and women scantily dressed in fishnet pantyhose, ripped tees or ass – grabbing booty shorts, it was simply because he didn’t understand. To Danny, Lou was just some eyeliner – wearing, wanna be tough guy that would crumble like a ton of bricks under a fistful of blows; Danny is quite a prissy looker with his uptown mechanics but he was no more than a man of all – bronze and no – brains.  
David took notice of the exchange and merely rolled his eyes; Danny now at the bar being courted, or rather courting, some blonde devotchka drowning herself in with presumable her nth glass of the night. He wasn’t exactly hurt by Danny’s nonchalance, he was quite used to it and frankly, David could care less if Danny ended up passed out with some bimbo riding his dick, he’s old news now.  
Grabbed, David halted and uttered a whine. Now irritable without his regular doze of Gitanes purging his lungs, he glared at Lou timidly and rather passively; quite ironic if asked. He was being defiant but at the same time, very submissive; it was Lou after all, his Lou.  
Another scene was the last thing the Duke wanted and so, he tugged on Lou’s jacket and slipped backwards into the common lavatory as swift and discreetly as he could. It wasn’t a large one and so he had to squeeze himself against Lou as he fiddled with the lock. David grumbled an incoherent series of curse words and complaints at how painful it was even to merely press the lock button on the knob and cup the wall for the lights, back bumping against Lou’s chest in the process.

whiitelight:  
Lou is particularly vexed, and it is evident. He does not move to get out of the Duke’s way, instead stands as some kind of masculine, brooding pillar in the middle of the floor, hand firmly folded over hand, dark eyes watching David’s back. David’s white angled face is cut by black shadows, and his creased brow makes an appearance against the black plastic of the door.  
“David.” Lou whines, as maybe a caged lion would before a human jumps in and is devoured. “What’s wrong with you?” He seems to ask honestly, eyes flicking to the door, taking a step back to accommodated David’s shoulders, but hands still firmly folded in front of him, making no move, it almost seems as though he doesn’t remember the intimacy.  
“You only date violent men.” Lou frowns, grinding his teeth together, letting his jaw twist, his eyes fluttering have closed in thought, “I guess some people are just happier when they’re in pain.” He shrugs, and as if he’s said his piece, he goes to unlock the door, the awkward cramped space almost forbidding it, knees knocking to knees, Lou recoiling slightly, glad he is firmly clothed, glad the idea of his nudity is hidden and will hopefully never be uncovered, he can feel David’s breath, too, and the lid of the toilet as he fiddles with the door, and he feels the space shrinking, and his face becoming larger, and tired, and nearly drooping and drooling off his body in an uncomfortable puddle.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
And there was truth in this, that David only dated violent men; men that would grumble and complain just with pouring David a glass despite his generous offers. Men that would stomp and throw their macho - tantrum because David wanted the sheets perfectly tucked under the mattress or that he preferred the drapes hauled in a certain way. Men that would indulge the Duke in a palaver of trivial things that either weren’t as intellectually deep or eclectically rousing; men that would toss him over some next big – stacked offer at a club and yet, still have the audacity to make his humble apartment their personal chateau.  
The lights flicked on and David leaned against the door spent. Spent from stress, embarrassment, thirst for a light and frankly, thirst of just being in the same room with Lou, his Lou; or was he still?  
“You of all people should know very well now.” Voice dry and cruel.  
He wanted to yell at him, cuss him out, slap him until his fingers would fall off and his box die out from all the pent up vulgarities that kept his chest very well constricted. He wanted to stab him, anything he could get his hands on to quench his need to avenge his pride; a fork, a syringe, a spoon, hell, he’d stab him with his bony clavicles if he could. Brows knitted dreadfully as the Duke exhaled sharp, fingers now carefully plowing his golden field; eyes squinted in irritation as his lip quivered but soothed with crooked ivories tugging it to still.  
“What do you want?” Came a softer muse as if his heart yearned for an apology, as if his mind begged for peace and reconciliation, as if his body needed warmth and the security that only Lou’s arms could ever provide fully; as if all he wanted was nothing more, or no one more to be precise, than Lou, his Lou.  
He turned his gaze to the idle wall, bandaged fingers dropping to hide behind jean pockets almost in fear. “If it’s your glasses you’re looking for love, they’re at home…”

whiitelight:  
“Yes.” Lou nodded, letting himself feel the abject horror of the situation. Yes: he did. He did enjoy it. ‘Enjoy’ wasn’t the right word: this sort of masochism, like all masochism, was part of a learned behavior, something animal. Lou always wondered how much you’d have to break a dog for it to be a masochist, or if any sort of sexual masochism could be chalked up to learned helplessness. Learned helplessness: the inability of an organism to practice avoidance behavior in response to an averse stimuli. Ah, much of Lou could be chalked up, in essence, to learned helplessness, especially standing in a cubical thinking about such things, looking at pale hands which he has learned can do nothing, feeling his comatose tongue learn to sit still in his jaw: yes, there was nothing he could do.  
Ah: but this wasn’t just learned helplessness, no, that’s simple endurance. Masochism may only arise in more complicated brains, more greedy ones; not only will we endure we will learn to love.  
“I don’t know what you want with me.” Lou says plainly, “c'mon, it’s 4 am, we’ve got freedom of speech. It’s New York.” Lou seems to be growing more irritable, voice rising, brows knitting, his body leaning forward, “just say it. Say you want me dead or sucking your cock or bleeding covered in cum.” Lou’s lips turn down into a scowl again, “for such a gross bastard you are a prissy bitch when it counts.” His voice wilts and falters but not in sadness, in growing aggravation, jaw squaring, brows lowering, head tilting to one side before finally there is white hot contact, a slender hand around David’s long neck. It lingers there, across the tendons, feigning violence, feigning love, really nothing, before it retracts again and is on the Duke’s shoulder, a short push to the wall, not too hard, nothing that somebody who wasn’t complicit couldn’t resist.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
The Duke wasn’t having any of it; none of Lou’s pretentious bull of being his advent Knight in Shining Armor, rescuing a very Damsel – in – Distress David from a blood – sucking pest of a gold – digger boyfriend, or his condescending manner of sweeping David off his feet. He wasn’t having any of Lou’s aggression as he had already dealt with enough; enough from stressing alone on getting dressed, picking up a bloody cigarette, taking drinks from Mick like a helpless child, dealing with a very scandalous fit of masculinity just now and stress over the fact that he’s being manhandled like so.  
How dare he? How dare Lou ruin him like this? How dare he take something he knows would impale David as if to erase him completely out of the books? To kill him with the endlessly tormenting fact that he cannot even strum a fucking guitar without wincing in pain? Sure it’d take a good month or two to fully heal as the doctors say, but in that month or two; how dare he not realize that he had broken the Duke? Broken not only his bones, his joints and ability to create art and music, but broken him completely; his trust, his soul… his heart.  
Pinned by the wall, David grunted softly and glared threateningly; as if he’d succumb to such and defile his ego with a loud shriek to gather help. But how altruistically familiar it was; to be held as such, to be pushed by hands warm over his shoulders despite the hindering fabric. To be within such propinquity that he could almost hear and feel Lou’s heart and breath; to be kept at such a territorial and dominant stance as if the Duke belonged to no one but Lou and Lou alone.  
His heart raced, breath quickened as he felt the frighteningly grasp over his neck. Though it had dropped to shove David at his shoulders, eyes bulged wide and kept at Lou’s. Brows knitted, palms relieved from hiding and pressed onto Lou’s chest in a petty reflex gesture; at least a readied attempt to push him off should he try to do something funny.  
The Duke finally raises his voice, quite out of character. “Why are you even here, Lou? Why the bloody hell are you even here, hmm? What, you want the world to praise you for ruining my career? You want me to tell them? Huh? Do you?” David wasn’t entirely angry, he was hurt. Hurt beyond repair that his eyes swelled red with shy puddles forming over the corners of his eyes as his voice cracked in great restraint. “Or maybe you want Danny, you masochistic bastard! I bet it fucking made your dick hard with him shoving you around; want him too? Okay.” He pauses, flashing a sardonic grin, “Have him. Hell, take Angie while you’re at it. My apartment? Take it. Here, here…!” He fussed with his jean pocket, grunting in pain before tossing the keys rudely against Lou’s chest. “Take it all why don’t you!”  
David went quiet for good minute, glaring as his chest began to feel heavy and tears ignored fell. He gulped hard, not wanting to cry, not wanting to talk, not wanting to do anything at all. “You…. You’ve hurt me enough, Lou. I get your point, okay? So just go. Go away… Get away from me. Get the fuck away from me and leave me alone!” Quietly, David grabbed brushed Lou’s arms off with his forearms, turning to face the same wall; bandaged palm covering his watery eyes, elbows perched on his spare, back turned against Lou, there was nothing more to say or do. He had aired his peace whether Lou decides to stay in this god – forsaken, compact lavatory, it was his choice; David was just not having any of it.  
“Just go, Lou…” His tone died into a defeated, tender plea; a plea of lies of course. “Please…”


	14. Chapter 14

whiitelight:  
“I didn’t pull you in here.”  
It seems more like a reprimand, Lou’s voice and face without affect, almost to the point it seemed pathological, the lifelessness a punishment for the duke’s antics, a display of civility which the only intent was sadism.  
“I don’t give a shit what you do. This isn’t faggot reality tv.” Lou opens the stall door unceremoniously, letting himself out into the rank bathroom. Ah, he had hoped to fuck. Even if it meant The a Duke crashing his head into the floor. No-especially if it meant David forcing Lou’s lips on the dirty green bathroom floor, pushing the toe of his boot into his mouth. No, instead he got this shit. Wasted time.  
And Lou, he really didn’t care. He was a well weathered New York City man. Just say ‘go’ and that is that. There was no weeping, there was just a slight masculine turn of the head when he left the bathroom, an inkling of melancholy affect over the sound of his black boots against the floor, toes pointed out, shoulders tall, a glance in the mirror and he could see David behind him. What a waste of time. Lou had meant it: David could’ve cursed him out properly, beaten him, fucked him, something immediate. Something real. Being shocked awake and into each others arms was just a shot away. The sudden realization that there was something real and physical between the two that either needed to end or continue, either needed to fuck or bleed and die. But no: it would not be satisfied tonight.

dukeoftheblackstar:  
Just like that, the Duke was yet again left to watch the Holy Grail slip from the callous thread that is any interaction between David Bowie and Lou Reed; and by Holy Grail, it was either a passionate romance or a sacred, filthy union between them. Union bound by sex, drugs, music and all the in – betweens of being Lou Reed and David Bowie. All the in – betweens that, at this very moment, were becoming nothing more than blurred lines thicker than cocaine on David’s glass desk. All the in – betweens that would be nothing more than mere fragments of the past; bitter memories of yore.  
He stood there with eyes dilated from reality and body empty of soul. What else was there to do? It’s no longer pride that would hinder David from chasing after Lou, it was his heart. His heart that had done so well evading emotional distress and easily seeking comfort from the lighter shades of life; coke, alcohol, and promiscuity. His heart that had already been broken twice that at the third strike would be his end; his heart that he had mistakenly given to Lou without thinking of its consequences. His heart that he had bestowed unconditionally to Lou with trust of it being taken care off, understood and treasured as he had been doing so with Lou’s. His heart, at this very moment, again as dark as obsidian.  
David took a moment to breathe. No tears fell, no lips quivered to utter any form of plea, nothing; nothing but the deafening silence from the weary Duke.  
He clicked his teeth in silence, licked his teeth and adjusted his clothing to proper before exiting out the common lavatory. The night won’t be quite a long one as David quietly walked towards the backdoor and left homebound.

\- End -


End file.
